#but its not like. disorder level it just kinda fucks with my head sometimes

[l48yr1nth]

i feel slightly bipolar. very slightly.

[alec-1016]

hi, this is a sleep-drunk vent session. pls feel free to ignore

cw: childhood.(idk, its not trauma, but it wasnt pleasant), internalized ableism, internalized transphobia, internalized misogyny, depression, anxiety, mentions of ed, sh and su1cide

also spelling errors

so, i just wanna vent abt liking shit. i grew up in a very privileged house, w both my parents being uni professors, so it was a very...intellectual house

i also grew up autistic. i was very often praised for being "good", quiet, smart, speaking in words too advanced for my age, reading and writing abovd my grade level, etc. so it kinda became "obvious" that i would become intellectually inclined, like my parents and older sisters

oh yeah, there is an eleven year age gap between me and my older sister, and a fourteen year gap begween me and my oldest sister. i grew up with adults.

there were barely any chdren for me to play w outside of school, so i decided i was better off alone. i read, drew, madr up complex imaginary scenarios in my head. i also tried to listen in and even participate in the adults discussions, and that also got me praise. i have always been a people pleaser.

so after i grew a bit, by like, middle school, i thiught i couldnt like kids things anymore. but i ciuldnt like teen things either bc i wasnt old enough for that. so i didnt really like stuff. i hid my special interests(harry p*tter🤢🤢 and riordanverse, mostly) from basically everyone, and threw myself into school

i have had anxiety ever since i can remember, and some symptoms of depression presented as early as 11. i have a cousin that is also deeply depressed, and that has been throigh roigher patchrs than i have. i always saw her as kinda my reslomsability, bc i was "well" and she wasnt. well, bc of all that, she loved to make fum of me. her parents used to unintentionally put us against each other and compare us, bc i wad the golden child and she was FUCKING DEPRESSED AND DIDNT LIKE SCHOOL BC PPL KEPT BULLYING HER AND COMPARING HER TO ME.

she made fun of everything i liked, and sometimes i even discovered that she liked the stuff too, she just wanted to seem batter than me in something. which i got at the time, and still get, but it fucking hurt and it made me fearful of ever liking things, in fear of being made fun of

which takes me to another place: school. i was made fun of for basically everything, and i just recently realized i was bullied for my autistic traits: not getting jokes and sarcasm, speaking differently, being too nerdy, too shy, too stupid, too slow, too much. i was always too much and never enough at the same time, never enough for ppm to like me

dont get me wrong i had friends. some amazing ppl that i still hold dear, some not so much. but it was hard knowing most of my class didnt care for me.

i also went through a "not like other girls" phase, where i thought if i liked boybands, tvshows, celebrities, gossip, etc, i was the most vain and uninteresting human being to ever exist, and no one would like me. so i forced myself to walk away. i didnt have a boyband phase or a tv show i binged untill i was 14/15, bc i didnt let myself get invested. i thought only "interesting, non basic" " girls" got to live their romances that i always dreamed of.

i got really hooked on shadowhunters through 2019 and 2020, even attended an online con that i almost didnt tell my mom abaout because i was so ashamed and scardd of being seen as...a kid, that i was(am). i didnt want to be immature enough to invest myself on celebrity gossip and tv shows. i was supposed to study, maybe read some ya books, but mostly classics.

throught he pandemic i got hit with some of my worst depressive episodes, suicidal thoughts, body dysmorphia, disordered eating, anxiety and gender dyphoria. and guilt for feeling all of those while being in a very orivileged situation.

so i turned inwards, like i always did, eps when things got difficult. i read and re-read so many books, binge watched tv shows, barely talked to anyone outside of class. i started letting myself like things, but still felt guilty at every turn, which fueled all of my worst instincts

i still feel guilty for liking "stupid" things. for liking tv shows and thirsting over characters and rereading books and following popular creators. i dont wanna lose the label of "smart" that i always thought was my best quality.

i still try no to show i like things, recently ive been hyperfixated on titans, esp. brenton thwaites and dick grayson bc i am a massive bisexual w a massive crush. and i wanna fo something that i always try to do when i like/obsess with an actor: watch as much of their fulms as i can. even if they are bad. even if they had the budged of 5 dollars plus a camera. i dont care. but i feel so fucking stupid for not caring bc it shouldnt be some pretty face that draws me to a film

it should be the photography(which i absolutely love, btw) or the theme, or the director or whatever it is film buffs use to pick movies. this is where the internalized transphobia and misogyny come in at full force: society doesnt let teenage girls get away with liking anything w/o being made fun of. they are called obsessed, crazy, stalkers, vain, stupid, dumb,etc. and i feel like i am. that is the worst.its as if i agree w all those horrivle things ppl say abt girls and liking things, and it makes me dysphoric. it is so weird how this abstract conceot of being seen as a vain stuoid teen girl can make me feel bad abt my identity.

(btw girls who like stuff. yall are the backbone of yhis site, you are smart, creative, funny, and i lovs you with all my heart)

i also realized i dont know how to a man in fandom.how to be a fanboy and not a fangirl. is it any different? do i have to be more closed off? do i have to speak less? was i actually right to shut up abt my interests this whole time? is that part of the masculine in me? if so, why does it hurt so much, when being masc in every other way feels soo good, so freeing?

this is much longer than it was intended or ever needed to be, and yet it covers like, half of my psychological issues lol.

this is me trying to give myself permussion to watch other works w brenton thwaites lol

if you relate in ny way shaoe or form to this, i am sorry, i love you, and you are allowed to like things.

[shachihata]

me rambling about rejuv’s storytelling structure under the cut i didn’t edit this post so if i’m unclear well. That’s what you get

ok so basically as i do my *checks watch* third replay of rejuv, i’ve basically been putting together what i’ve been calling like... a “lore walkthrough” of it? essentially, i’m writing synopses of each of the “story beats” of rejuv in correlation with the “gameplay beats” of rejuv, as laid out by jra’s 100% walkthrough. which seems kind of nebulous, but i mean something like this...

where i’ve put the “story beat” next to, in parentheses, the one or more gameplay sections that they correspond to. and the way i’ve split up the story beats is, i’ll admit, pretty subjective. i’ve been sort of basing it off of the natural “flow” of events, with each chapter having some sort of exposition and then a main conflict/climax. for example, chapter 4 looks like this:

“goldenleaf town” sets up the exposition for the chapter conflict, while “wispy tower” is the main climax that provides some sort of resolution to this conflict. simple!

most chapters, i’ve noticed, are around 2 story beats long, with each story beat taking place in a different area from the last. chapter 4 is divided into the goldenleaf town exposition and the wispy tower conflict/climax; chapter 8 is divided into the magma stone exposition and the valor mountain conflict/climax; chapter 9 is divided into the past aevium exposition and the west gearen sewers conflict/climax. longer chapters sometimes break this flow by introducing what i call a “falling action” beat. an example of this would be chapter 5: from the pre-blacksteeple exposition of the disappearance of akuwa town, the blacksteeple castle conflict where you confront neved and madame x, and the terajuma island falling action where you’re introduced to the next main “hub area” of rejuv. i’m on chapter 12 right now, and the only chapter that’s been shorter than two “story beats” is chapter 3, one of the shortest chapters in the game gameplay-wise, anyway. the exposition and climax both take place inside of chrysalis mansion, and occur in such short sequence with basically no falling action to speak of; story-wise, there’s nowhere that feels “right” to split it up, if that makes sense.

now, i’ve noticed that what i consider to be the “weaker” chapters of rejuv actually are the chapters that have three story beats -- these chapters, as you might imagine, are the longer ones that tend to drag on in terms of their conflicts and resolutions. chapter 5 “naturally” ended with the ending of blacksteeple, but you have to sit through a sequence at terajuma island that imo breaks the mood of the chapter by introducing you to... a tropical jungle where everyone’s complaining about the heat, literal minutes after the INCREDIBLY intense sequence where melia reveals that she’s still alive, you’re introduced to who madame x even is, and madame x kills nancy. the conflict has come to its natural close, and yet you’re immediately thrown even MORE problems that DON’T have a natural conclusion with the end of the chapter. instead, they get “dragged on,” meaning that to end your gameplay session with the end of the chapter leaves you feeling “unsatisfied” with the few answers you’ve received: saki is missing and nowhere to be found, alex and sam reveal that angie is the next big bad guy of the terajuma arc, nim is getting weirdly sick and weak, a cutscene with ren shows him joining team xen... and so on.

obviously, in any story, there has to be an overarching plot and conflict that does span multiple chapters. like, i’m not saying that all the problems in a chapter need to be resolved in that chapter. i’m saying that the “weaker” chapters introduce multiple smaller conflicts that simply aren’t on the level of the main plot that don’t get addressed to any satisfying degree, which weakens the overall impact of the chapter’s conflict and makes it feel longer than necessary. if that makes sense!

it’s this tendency to “drag on” that makes rejuv’s storyline much weaker after act 1 (the ending at valor mountain), imo. chapter 8 was an incredibly strong chapter, definitely one of my favorite in all of rejuv -- magma stone exposition plus a powerful ending at valor mountain where a lot of subplots are either resolved or, at the very least, addressed in a way where the player’s reassured that they haven’t been forgotten about (just off the top of my head... crescent’s connection to the player, jenner’s love for melia, nim’s psychic powers and inhuman nature, zetta’s problems and disorders, team xen’s weird immortality-at-a-cost, etc etc etc). it’s a natural ending to the main conflict of act 1: Team Xen Has Problems And Wants Melia Soooooooo So Bad. you win! ...at a major cost. it provides satisfying resolutions to the problems that’ve been presented in the first half of the game, while still setting up the stakes of the next act (angie, team xen at large, Crescent’s Connection To The Player). you’ve got a pretty clear idea of What To Do Now and What The Plot Is Going To Address Next, but the main threat still on the table is Madame X And Co.

...and then act 2 comes in and starts muddying stuff up. the reason why act 1 works so well is because even though there are so many minor problems being introduced, the major problem is still hanging over your head at any given moment. melia dead? it’s team xen. keta’s dead? it’s team xen. aelita’s being tortured? it’s team xen. amber’s being kidnapped? You Guessed It, It’s Team Xen. there’s no ambiguity about what the overarching plot is, as opposed to the myriad of “overarching arc-spanning problems” that are introduced in each chapter in act 2. once again, off the top of my head: your role as the “interceptor,” the role of bladestar, kieran and clear, the puppetmaster, nim/lorna, angie, vitus/indriad, the stone incident... and team xen’s previously-monolithic strength is undermined by madame x’s role in the doomed future, as she becomes a semi-ally even though there was very little prior character development for her besides “evil lady who killed your mom and warned maria in the prologue and has some sort of goal that you’re unwittingly ruining.” their importance in act 1 is diminished by all of the new problems suddenly being thrown at you in act 2 that have arc-wide importance, even though you, as a first-time player, have no idea why so many problems seem to be having arc-wide importance.

expanding off of what i was talking about earlier with chapter 5: the problems “drag on”! a TON of problems are introduced with VERY little resolution in each chapter, and the previously-rigid story beats start falling apart, making the story less satisfying to play through even though you know there will be a resolution at some point in the future. take my (very very tentative) outline for chapter 11 so far:

i wasn’t... very sure how to split this one apart, tbh, because every beat has so many problems and so little resolution, everything ends up blurring together. the first beat, “grand dream city”: the missing rune. bladestar. valarie not recognizing you guys. alice and allen and karen and their connection to the theolias. cassandra’s connection to team xen. madelis’s new job. the second beat, “stone incident”: venam being turned into stone. isha and the hospital of hope. nightmare city. who the fuck is the puppetmaster. nightmare zetta. aelita’s problems and issues disorders. being the “interceptor.” the xenpurgis. the last beat, “rose theatre”: what happened to aelita. souta’s connection to the eldest. your crew being signed up for the festival of dreams tournament.

...how many of these are resolved by the end of chapter 11? uhhhhhhhhhhhh. Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhhh. yeah. compare this to how much “tighter” chapter 4 felt! the first beat, “goldenleaf town”: geara coming to intercept you in goldenleaf. ren’s connection to goldenleaf. narcissa’s problems with goldenleaf. mosely’s conflict with goldenleaf. the wispy tower incident. the second beat, “wispy tower”: mosely comes back to help you! you realize that the wispy tower is somehow connected to team xen/houses information important to team xen, and beat geara’s ass in the process! you beat narcissa in a gym battle, and goldenleaf changes their ways! ren tells you that he has problems with goldenleaf because it was his father’s last wish that he “save” goldenleaf! it sets up future conflict (ren’s dissatisfaction with the outcome, what sirius and co. were studying in wispy tower, geara meeting up with jenner/zetta/nim in the altered dimension), but there’s a clear main conflict that gets resolved and ties back to the main enemy, team xen. it’s clear-cut, it’s strongly written, it’s done.

yes, act 2 expands the scope and heightens the stakes of rejuv a lot, which is why so many problems Are Introduced At All -- but the main conflict gets very heavily muddied with all of the minor problems that are thrown at you with every single conversation, it feels. i’m only on chapter 12 but from what i remember, this “dragging on” problem happens a lot throughout act 2 (although there are some sections i think are very strongly written, don’t get me wrong). that’s why chapter 15 is so good, in comparison: it provides so much fucking resolution. it’s a “return to form,” in a sense -- conflict is set up and resolved in that chapter, while questions from previous chapters are brought back and answered (to... some “vague” degree of “clarity”). this is very much opposed to a lot of the chapters in act 2 imo, where a bunch of problems are set up with no resolution in that chapter at all. idk. my memory of them is kinda fuzzy and i gotta just keep chugging through the game, it’s interesting just to break down how all this stuff works in a meta storytelling sense ig :T

[gendercraft]

Outast: Revisited [Chapter Eight: Waylon]

Read on ao3

Synopsis: I’m rewriting Outlast where the first game and Whistleblower are combined, Miles and Waylon are more connected, and also they kiss

Trigger warnings: Sexual assault plus everything already in the game; eye gore; the gore actually gets kinda intense here; let me know if i missed anything

The warm gas spilt over Waylon in the decontamination chamber. His heart raced, his muscles tensed; he was ready to run. The doors were barely open by the time he made it out. 

Manera cut him off as he flew through the labs. Waylon skidded to a stop just in time, the buzzsaw tickling his nose. The saw swung, and Waylon ducked, gasping. Stumbling backwards, he staggered to his feet, and caught the saw just as it came down on his chest. 

Fabric tore, sterile air brushed against his chest. Waylon yanked the saw as hard as he could, and it came free from Manera’s grip, only to hurdle over his head, down towards the decontamination chamber. 

Manera and Waylon stared. Waylon was tense, ready to fight. Manera’s gaze slipped past his, landing on the still buzzing saw. 

Throwing Waylon to the ground, Manera raced towards his weapon. Waylon hit the concrete with an ‘oof’ but immediately stumbled up and sprinted for the door. 

He made it back to the hall and didn’t stop until he reached the chamber with the victim. Heart sinking, he stepped inside. 

The man was dead. Keeping an ear out for the saw, Waylon knelt down and looked closer. It was a security guard. A little bit of weight lifted off Waylon’s shoulders. The security guards had been cause for death even before all this, he couldn’t imagine what this man might have done to patients in the chaos. 

He straightened up and took a second to close his eyes. His mind tried supplying him with thoughts of family, things this man might be leaving behind, but Waylon pushed it away. He wasn’t a man. He was a Murkoff employee. Waylon had better things to be worrying about. 

Like if Miles Upshur would be waiting for him in the prison.

He stepped through the chamber and it led him into the dense gray fog outside, a staircase encased in chainlink. Reloading his battery, he hurried down the stairs. When he arrived on the dirt, he brought his night vision up, only to wince at the brightness. Bringing it down, though, he couldn’t see two feet in front of him. There was no way to cut through the fog. He’d have to be blind. 

“No! NO!” 

A scream. Is it him, the cannibal? Could be pleasure or pain, Waylon wouldn’t guess. Did Manera even know? His voice sounded like… something I wanted while watching the Engine. Its only message was hunger, to crush and consume. 

Waylon whipped around. No one was there. 

“You were mine!” 

Peeking through his camera, he zoomed to the building, one of the upper windows. Manera stood in the frame, face twisted. 

I’m going to try and forget it, Lisa. If I get out of here, I’m going to come back to you. 

He found his way to an open chainlink door, the floor covered in bloody footprints. The trees surrounding him were dead, bare branches arching into the air and poking at his back. Footsteps sounded from every direction, sometimes far away, sometimes close by, and the occasional scream or curse carried in the howling wind. Part of Waylon was curious about what else was going down in the asylum; how many people were trying to escape? How many were succeeding? How many were just venting, killing out their frustrations? The other part of him knew he’d never recover if he found out. 

Two patients ran across his vision, almost entirely obscured by the fog. Waylon held his hands out and got ready to dash but neither of them saw or cared that he was there. He swallowed. There was never any telling who’d attack him in this place. 

A cobble path appeared in the dirt. Waylon followed it to a stone staircase leading to the left and the right. The right was locked, so he headed through the chainlink doorway on the left. It was a small alley between the prison watchtowers and a bricked-in basketball court the patients were supposedly allowed in every now and then. Emphasis on supposedly. 

“Three hundred sixty four…” 

A grunt, a smack. Waylon trailed around the brick until he found a grated door. He zoomed in on his camera, and his stomach lurched. A patient, shooting hoops, with a human head. 

The head looped around the rim and smacked to the ground. Blood dusted the concrete, and the patient strolled over to pick it up like nothing was amiss. 

He’s playing alone and losing. Waylon took a step back. That is what the game is. 

There is a mathematical proof, if you add 1 + 2 + 3 + 4 + 5 and so on up to infinity, you can arrive at an answer. If you stop shy of infinity, you have an indescribably large number. If you continue all the way to infinity, you arrive at—1/12. Negative 0.0833333 repeating. I’m losing my grip on things. 

Waylon was thinking about the drive to Mount Massive, 400 miles in a rented truck. The job that showed up just in time to cover their bills, their debts, the insurance. The boys sleeping in the back. Nothing but AM radio. Gospel, Country-Western, late night paranoiac talk radio. They sang Patsy Klein songs and laughed at conspiracies of aliens and ghosts. Mile marker numbers passing in headlights. 

I don’t want to die here. 

There was no way forward, so he backtracked. Out of the previously locked right side of the staircase, a patient came running out holding a pipe. Waylon leapt back but the patient ran right down the stairs and disappeared into the fog. Swallowing, Waylon pushed forward through his abandoned open door. 

The ground was wet. Waylon’s bare feet ached, stung, burned. He’d never felt grosser in his life, covered in sweat and blood and snot. 

He didn’t have time to think about that. Finding a hole in the fence, he dropped himself onto a metal walkway. It clanged as he rushed through. Dropping down to the concrete at ground level, he found a ladder that led him up to the courtyard. 

Mount Massive’s prison courtyard was split up into several very small sections by chainlink. Most of the doors would be locked—a maze. He passed by a few wooden picnic tables and reached a hole in the fence that allowed him into the main pathway. The metal poked and scraped at his sides as he slid through. 

Despite the fog, it was a bit more well-lit here. With all the puddles, it must’ve rained recently, and looked like it was about to again. 

He paused as voices purred from the shadows. 

“I would like to kill him.” 

“As would I.” 

Waylon’s hairs stood on end. Two men, naked, identical, passed by the locked chain door inches from Waylon’s face. They disappeared into the fog. 

They can’t find you. Keep going. 

He kept going. 

He arrived at another small area with a picnic table, surrounded in chain link and brick, only for the two men to enter through a side door. One took the right side, the other took the left. 

They stared. 

Waylon inched towards the door they came in from. 

A smirk curled on Leftie’s mouth. Waylon prepared himself to run, to leap, to dodge, anything, but the twins just stared, grinning, smirking, eyes twinkling. Their machetes glinted in the moonlight. Where the fuck did they get machetes? 

Waylon slipped through the door and slammed it closed behind him. He broke into a sprint, racing through the fenced in main path, stepping on broken glass and twigs and rocks. Slamming a chainlink door open, something flew in front of his face. He yelped and stopped. Glancing back, panting, he frowned. Did they follow him at all? They were nowhere in sight. 

He looked down, and his mouth went dry. Another head. What was with these fucking freaks playing basketball with heads? Could they really find nothing else? 

He zoomed in with his camera. The hoop was full of carnage, dripping body parts, red all over the ground below. A shuffle behind him—he whipped around. The twins were coming. They’d been following after all. 

Stumbling into the court, he dodged the blow from the player, who rasped out, “Shirts and skins or fuck off!” 

The player shoved Waylon towards the exit, a ladder leading up the side of the building. “Spoilsport!” 

“Yeah, my bad,” Waylon gasped. The gate creaked open. The twins stepped inside. Waylon ran for the ladder. It led him up to a watch tower, where he took a moment to lock himself inside. He pulled out one of the wooden chairs and dropped his face in his hands. 

I don’t want to die here. 

Something on the table caught his eye, the words ‘exposed to the Engine.’ Pulling the email closer, Waylon squinted at the paper. 

 From: j.billings@murkoffcorp.us.com

To: k.vigalando@murkoffcorp.us.com

Subject: re: “Patient” Samul 

 Kurt, we’ve got another one, and I’m not sure you’re gonna be able to check it off as “Psychopathic Proximity Disorder.” 

 Security guard all the way up in the Admin block is our latest non-patient employee to start seeing Wernicke’s fairy tales. He was never directly exposed to the Engine, never even made it below level 1 in the building. It would be an enormous breach of protocol and security if doctors were speaking of the Walrider within hearing of a contracted security guard. And seems vanishingly improbable that he would stumble into such an obscure mythological story on his own. 

 It’s too similar to the Dr. Samul case, or the others before him. It’s one thing for formally sane medical personnel to fall under the delusions of their patients. It’s another thing entirely for those beliefs to be… I don’t know. Airborne. We need to talk in person. 

 Billings. 

 Waylon stuffed the paper in his pocket. He had no idea what to make of it. Wernicke… Waylon had heard that name before. Checking through the other documents he’d collected, he found mention of Wernicke’s research. Wernicke was why the Walrider existed. Wernicke created the engine. 

Wernicke was the reason he was trapped here. 

He forced himself to leave the safety of the watchtower to head across the catwalk. A patient ran past him. 

“Shhh! Shut up! Shut up, all of you! We’re not alone down here. It’s just what they want us to think. You’re going to draw it. Shh!” 

We’re not alone down here. 

Waylon swallowed. 

He reached another watchtower and climbed a ladder, bringing him even higher. A patient stood at the railing, looking down, looking very much like he was contemplating. 

“Don’t trust them,” he said with a sigh. 

Waylon brought his camera up. 

“They’ll tell you it’s science but it’s not. They were… waiting for us. In this place. Billy understood. They’ve always been here.” 

He wiped his sweaty palms on his jumpsuit and headed for the nearest door. It let him into a larger building, and down the hall by the flickering light, a few patients ran past. Blood splattered the walls. Waylon passed by a barricaded door cracked open, the shadows on the wall beating another to death. Everywhere he went, patients were running, hiding, killing each other, barricading themselves in doors. 

Waylon finally found his way to the security room, where a dozen screens showed the entire prison block. 

And the radio. 

Waylon broke into a sprint. 

“Leadville 911, what’s your emergency?” 

“Mount Ma—” 

A hand closed over the radio. An elbow slammed into Waylon’s nose, his vision blurring as he choked and fell on his back. Jeremy Blaire smashed a police baton into the radio, once, twice, three times—Waylon had to run. He jumped to his feet and headed for the door, only for the baton to crash into his face and land him back on the floor, staring at the ceiling. 

“Fuck!” He gasped. 

Blaire climbed on top of him and pressed the baton to his neck. “Waylon Park!” He laughed dryly. “You couldn’t just…” A growl built in the back of his throat. “You couldn't just keep your mouth shut. You couldn’t just play along. But you’re done talking now.” 

Waylon’s throat burned. His vision was pulsing, his eyes throbbing. His head was going to explode. 

Something crashed. 

Blaire looked back. 

He climbed off of Waylon, who sucked in a huge, gasping breath, and waved the baton at him. “Do me a favour and die here, Park,” he snapped, then ran from the room. 

Waylon couldn’t get up for a good few minutes. He gasped for breath, holding his throat, his heart racing through his entire body. 

He ended up on all fours, dragging himself to the doorway. He was almost to his feet when a body flew through the once-closed door that led deeper into the asylum. Huffing grunts and snorts sounded down the hall. Waylon pressed himself against the back of a desk, eyes wide. He peeked around the side. 

Chris Walker.

[redxblueihateloveyou]

Actually i don't get Reki at all. Like even in the first ep he was worse even than Shadow and i'm not talking abt Cherry, Joe and Adam. And he was ok and loved skating. But like... if your friend is better than you, then you get depressed and making your friend feel guilty abt you not being good enough? I didn't even ship Reki and Langa, they are just giving me only friendship vibes, but i'm still sad, wtf writers did with his character?

Yeah, same. Like, sorry, I just don’t think Reki’s character can be redeemed for me personaly at this point.  

Like what should I even stand for in his character? I do not respect his life position at all. Like I dislike Makoto for being a shadow and not wanting anything in his life, but hey, at least he’s genuinely happy for Haru’s success. I adore Rin who never gave up and dove into the hardest challenge possible from the start to get on Haru’s level, cause he wanted to swim with him for the rest of his life and he got there. And then there’s this..  it’s like.. he loves to skate, but apparently not enough, cause his doesn’t want it, if he isn’t the best at it, so he’d rather... not skate at all? He wants to be as cool and on the same level with “naturally talented ones” and wants to compete with Langa, but he doesn’t want to do anything for it or search for his own unique style or smth to beat them in another way? And on top of that he’s also sad about seeing Langa succeeding? The whole thing is... like.. no, thank you?

Like are they really gonna go with the “you made me want to be great at this like you, but if only you are great at this, than screw both you and this?” lolz. Even if they will go with the psychological block bc of his friend’s injury, it’s gonna be lousy af now. It’s like is there even a route left which could make him look...ahem... presentable at this point? Idk.

I also was right about the fact that he’s the type who prolongs the whining instead of doing things, unlike some other characters who were in his position too; realistic maybe he is, but I don’t want it, honestly, like I see such things every day and I do not like it.

From what I’ve seen in the tag some are already trying to apply here like 50 mental disorders to excuse him and stuff like “it’s realistic” and at this point I’m honestly used to people on the internet using mental disorders not for spreading awareness, but bc they’re thinking it’s “trendy”, which is a cringe galore and shame on you. But it still makes me kinda sad all the time. Also there’s nothing unrealistic about not giving up and getting where you want, it’s just harder for, to say, “ordinary” people, that’s why most rarely choose this option (although it’s for you to decide if you’re ordinary or not, cause everyone can be extraordinary, you just need to find it in you). Anyways, drowning in a self pity is not the trait I’ve ever found appealing in people, along with the constant comparing yourself to others.

Sadly many prefer to use these excuses to get out of everything along with being lazy or jealous, esp the young generation. At this point, it’s like the same thing as with this other fandom. Like, sometimes when someone is trying to hit someone because he saw that he’s more talented than him, that just means that he’s an asshole, there’s no need to come up with ridiculous excuses to justify this and try to make him a hero. And sometimes ppl are just jealous, as simple as that. And no, not everyone is like that. At this point ppl on social media are like... fuck your hard-working characters, who are inspired by talent and do not give up on trying to prove yourself even if the whole world is against them. Let’s promote being emo and how it’s okay to spend your life on walking around telling everyone how you’re a useless trash, like this will help you in life.

Also if seeing someone succeed, esp your best friend, makes you sad, might want to reconsider the way of living your life. Just saying.

Also since when you have to be the best just to enjoy doing what you love doing? I’m like... personaly I do not get it. Looking at my vids 10 years ago they look like utter trash, but I tried and tried and yeah, I might not reach some levels of mega talented ppl, but hey, I’m still trying and searching for stuff I can improve all the time and watch talented ppl tutorials like “holy fuck, you can do that?”.

But hey, at least he doesn’t want to only make boards, he wants to compete... (or does he? I’m honestly not sure at this point lol)... I mean, there’s... that. but I thought, when he’s gonna realize it, he’s gonna be back on track, but n.o. xD back to self pity. ok then. Some go like “its only been 3 episodes” and I’m like “this... ain’t a 24 episodes anime tho..(?)”.

So far I’m just confused about what are writers intentions with some characters are. Like the most interesting ones at least for me are technically a background for some reason idk. I was literally sad about the wasted amount of screentime on Reki being.. well, nothing new.

Sad part about this is that people like this also need a constant reassuring to the point of them just sucking your life out of you, too, so I honestly do not know how to deal with this life position. Ppl like this have a tendency to never be happy, so Langa would just have to run after him and feed him with compliments for the rest of his life to water his tiny self-esteem or say smth “don’t give up, don’t give up, fighting”? It’s like... well, ok. Friendship, yeah, but ship? Nah, not for me. Also I do not smell any huge romance there tbh, and from Reki’s side this is all just a mess tbh.

The saddest part was that he saw that Langa won after his yelling and he didn’t care for that. Like Rin was mopping bc he wanted to swim with Haru, so when he saw that Haru wanted to swim with him, too, that was it for him. And that’s the problem all the viewers who watched Free! got hit with while watching this. My DMs are literally all about “why do I not feel anything about them?” or “sometimes cute, but smth doesn’t hit me shipping wise”. Cause I think most expected for some reason that he would also put Langa first, but at the end, they’re not on the same track, bc their priorities are different.

I actually think it was just mistake for all of our Free! hommies including me to go at it from the wrong point of view and from the beginning expecting it shipping wise to be like that one other Utsumi’s work. I mean, she’s just a director there, not also on the storyboard or anything else. Should’ve gone watching it with a clear head. The main ship just does not hit any spots for me either. And my heart does not lie there at all. I do blame Free! for this, cause it’s like impossible to compare bc of those our scenes, I keep seeing, but at the same time, they do not hold up not to the dynamic, not to anything at this point. Like I do not know where they’re going with them, but this is just not my type of a ship in general and definitely not the one I can go crazy about. I honestly do not think 3 episodes can change that. It’s says a lot if at this point I do not even care much for their reconciliation, I’m like.. tell me about the seniors’ drama tho xD So I’ll stick with my side ships.

Also, unrelated to the question, but did Adam seriously just went and hit Cherry with a board in the face?!!!! (THE FUCK DUDE?) Like, this was definitely not how I thought this was gonna go. I also kinda felt like Cherry was in love with Adam in the past. All in all this was like a... strange episode, at this point I just feel sorry for my baby Langa, Joe and Cherry were very cute (esp at the end) and my god Cherry is hot, but like I also want something complex pls, so idk I’m  still waiting for the Adam/Tadashi shananigans.

At this point I’m like “I love watching this, but what am I watching?” haha supernatural skating soup opera it is then. 

Also I just love Langa my dude, my man. How he’s such a puppy in real life, but so freaking hot when he skates??!!! T_T 

[idlecreature]

the buried fic comment from hell (it's so long i'm SO SORRY, I GOT EXCITED)

DEL.. I WASN’T SURE IF IT WAS APPROPRIATE TO LEAVE A LONG ASS COMMENT ON UR BURIED FIC IN PUBLIC….. SO I’M DROPPING IT HERE i’m so sorry in advance this is about to be a mess,, i’m so fucking emotional right now

((the review under the cut is in response to my fic which can b read here))

okay first –

The mental image of tiny gangly Barnabas and Jonah crouched with their hands in the dirt….. is so fucking cute?? I could feel Jonah’s jealousy just burning off of him. You had me right away. Fuck. You know how to open a story and I’m deeply envious, I’ve always struggled with it. Also, you threw in that little hook:

Despite what Jonah believes, there are some things that just can’t be explained in words.

Barnabas’ voice is so fucking good… guh… you know. I didn’t much care about Barnabas in any deep way before I joined the Jonah server and you guys have all just completely GUTTED me, I can’t believe how much I care about this highly-strung bastard,, he is so GOOD. HE’S SO GOOD???? HE’S SUCH A SWEETIE. LIKE. BARNABAS FEELING GUILTY AND HORRIFIED THAT PEOPLE ARE GRATEFUL TO HIM AND WANT HIM AROUND???? AAAAAAAAAA. And the melancholy aspect, too, which I imagine is how Mordechai was able to relate to him, get attached to him… Barnabas being bitter about how useless his tears are while he’s crying anxiously at the prospect that he might not be able to help those families after all…….

All of those scraps of Barnabas’ letter to Jonah made such EXCELLENT transitions, holy hell. Again I am inspired by your storytelling prowess. I am taking notes, for whenever my ability to write longform fic returns from war. This one was my favorite, made my heart clench:

A good world starts with a good person and a few choices that are made with the heart—

He’s so earnest I’m going to weep ;_; Barny.. you can’t make Jonah a better person he’s AWFUL,,

(Side note, super digging that I can indent stuff, block quoting makes this SO much easier.)

Also really digging that Jonah doesn’t have as nice a reputation as Barnabas… Jonah is the bad influence friend lmfao. AND JONAH’S CAT… I LOVE HIM…

And then you delivered a swift blow straight to the religion kink, as promised… “There’s something undeniably old testament about Jonah; the fire and fury of creation, the self-annihilating stare of Lot’s wife.“ LOSING IT I’M LOSING IT… WHAT A WAY OF DESCRIBING HIM God, here I thought I couldn’t possibly be more attracted to this bastard man. I am aghast at myself.

LOSING IT EVEN MORE OVER BARNABAS STACKING TEACUPS ON JONAH’S HEAD???? Why must you make them so fucking cute oh NO this is going to hurt isn’t it. ((This was the note I stuck in the Word doc while I was reading it and I thought I’d leave it as was for your enjoyment))

“Taking cues from your dreams?” Barnabas replies. “You know only the desperately mad do that?” 

“Or desperately inspired—savants and prophets and visionaries.”

And then you continued to try to kill me… Jonah thinking of himself as a prophet……. hhhhh canon-typical overambitious zealotry I’m HERE FOR IT………

“Are you trying to make me angry with you by playing the devil’s advocate?” 

“Just testing you,” Jonah says in his alloyed voice, silver-and-honey-gold. 

Del I cannot stress enough… My religion kink………. It’s been SO VERY ACTIVATED.

“Your morality has only ever been a thin cover for your shame.”

OUCH, JONAH, JESUS

Every bit of their dialogue was so familiar and tinged with bittersweetness and I owe you my entire life… Sincerely. Ugh. Like, how you described Barnabas’ internal angst about it later on – when he’s thinking of Mordechai, and he refers to "his many dog-eared fantasies” about Jonah it just really vividly conjured the thought of he and Jonah having a sort of? Queer solidarity, ESPECIALLY having grown up together. And that makes Jonah’s flash of betrayal at Barnabas not wanting to be SEEN with him that much more agonizing, personally. Like. I’ve had that happen to me more than once in real life. And much as Jonah is a piece of shit who is absolutely manipulating him………. still, ouch. Ouch. (Barnabas’ thoughts on the company Jonah keeps also made me wince. You did an AMAZING job with all of the internalized shame and frantic rationalizations, hooooooboy.)

The Lukases being colorblind is such an interesting piece of lore by the way I love it????? Now I have. Some questions, about Peter. Mordechai’s characterization in this is so fascinating to me. I’m enTRANCED by how you reverse-Uno’d it so that Barnabas was the reason Mordechai lost himself to the Lonely… the power dynamics……. so tasty. Ugh. And all of the sensual descriptions, especially of that first visit Barnabas had at Moorland house?? I didn’t clip any because I would have ended up clipping the whole fucking thing. It was aching, haunting, beautiful, holyshit. Their romance is somehow more fucked up than Barnabas and Jonah’s…

Also, I was so eager to read this I skipped the tags/warnings and completely didn’t realize Mordechai was going to be an actual vampire so that was a VERY fun surprise lmfao.

Barnabas feels like he’s close to learning something about violence and desire, how close they are, how the wires can get crossed.

THIS QUOTE IS EVERYTHING TO MEEEEEE ugh I’m having an aneurysm over how Jonah managed to fashion Barnabas into a creature that could understand him by gifting him to Mordechai for a while… letting Mordechai crack him open at the points where he was already brittle and experience an influx of some of the true darkness of the world. Just a tasty taste. That way when he discovers the truth of Jonah’s occult interests he won’t run away, because he’s already got his own fingers in the mess. He’s already given himself to one horror, why not Jonah? Shave some of the shine off of his morality, make him nice and gray so he won’t contrast so much with Jonah… And satisfying his curiosity at the same time. Two birds.

Oh, also, still sobbing about this line:

he realises that he doesn’t want to wear any colours that Mordechai can’t properly see.

EVERY TIME I let my guard down for ten seconds you smacked me with more of Barnabas being the most precious bleeding heart in the universe!!!!!! He aches so much for the people he’s trying to help and he hates people like Mordechai but part of him also wants to save Mordechai, somehow… maybe recognizes the parts of him that are like these people, still. Nearly faded but not quite gone yet. And as you’ve already established, Barnabas simply cannot let things go. Can’t disappoint people… can’t leave them when he could be doing something. Anything. Augh, FEELINGS.

Of course he knew Mordechai and Jonah were friends, he’d just temporarily believed in a sane and fair universe where things like this don’t happen. 

AND YOU HAD SUCH A PERFECT BALANCE OF HUMOR… This could have been such a feelbad fic, and tbh it still would have been spectacular. But you always eased it at just the right moment to keep it from going off the rails into irretrievable deepdark territory. Fed me little soft moments so I’d still be vulnerable enough to have my HEART RIPPED OUT LATER…

I’m not super interested in the Buried canon-wise but I love how you’ve written Barnabas’ natural affiliation with it… so subtle but powerful? (Of COURSE Jonah was jealous, lmao. He had to work so hard and he’s still not on Barnabas’ level. There’s some kinda beautiful commentary on ambition versus goodwill in there somewhere but I’m too busy nursing my battered little heart right now to articulate it.) It wove its way in and out of the rest of the plot so naturally, too. For some reason it compliments Barnabas’ temperament as I read it in canon just… so well. Was there a discussion about this on the server, and if so, PLEASE tell me about it sometime I’m so fascinated.

Jonah wasn’t even present for a lot of the fic but his characterization was so INTENSE and luminous, Christ… I know I already praised it a bit but. Woof. I wasn’t expecting to get a taste of his POV at the end and I was so excited I kicked my feet (my cat was very disgruntled) like, this line!!!

Now, he thinks there’s some truth in those false statements, in the lies we tell and why we want to be believed.

GOD, YOU’RE REALLY GONNA GIVE ME FEELINGS ABOUT JONAH AND FUTURE-JONAHLIAS IN THE SAME FIC?????? EVIL… I’m so so so fucking here for it, oh my God, Jonah with an amplifying anxiety disorder, THE PRICE OF IMMORTALITY… too bad the Eye doesn’t let you see the future, Jonah, lmao… the line “immortality just made his anxiety turn nuclear” is SEARED into my brain now, I am NOT accepting canon to contradict this ever again. I’ve always wondered how Jonah’s neuroses might have worsened in two entire fucking CENTURIES and I love the way you wrote it. I am fucking. Losing my mind.

There’s so many other things I could comment on, like. The brief but glorious Jonah-grinding-himself-off-on-Barnabas’-thigh shenanigans. Was incredibly hot, and Mordechai’s poor fragile heart breaking, and Barnabas telling Isabel that it’s fine to call him Barny…….. I’m hhhhhhhhHHHH fuck, fuck, fuck. I’m just!! I am incomprehensible!!! Everyone told me this fic was amazing but it’s fucking amazing, Del, what the hell. I’m never gonna be the same after this. The end was SHOCKINGLY sweet and I have WHIPLASH.

………… So, now that I’ve made you read a novel. Hah. Sorry. My point is. I loved every bit of this. It deserved heaps more praise but my eyes are starting to cross. Thx for sharing :’) 

Love,

Tony xx

TONY. TONY THIS MEANS EVERYTHING TO ME. FIRSTLY I’M SO GLAD YOU LIKED THIS. SECOND OF ALL, THANKS TO YOU I’LL BE SCREAMING FROM THE ROOFTOPS FOREVER HAVE YOU ANY IDEA HOW THIS REVIEW HAS AFFECTED ME? IT’S THE BEST FEEDBACK I’VE EVER RECIEVED IN MY LIFE I FEEL LIKE A FIRSTGRADER GETTING THEIR FIRST GOLD STAR I FEEL ON TOP OF THE WORLD LIKE I COULD THROW THE JEWEL OF THE SEA OFF THE SHIP AND LEAN OVER THE RAILINGS BECAUSE YOUR ARMS ARE AROUND ME TONY IT’S BEEN MONTHS AND THIS REVIEW HAS BEEN A FIREPLACE KEEPING ME WARM THROUGH THE WINTER MONTHS I LOVE YOU DEARLY FOR THIS YOU ARE AN ABSOLUTE CHAMPION IF YOU WERE IN FRONT OF ME RIGHT NOW I WOULD FRENCH KISS YOU WITHOUT HESISTATION UNTIL THE BOTH OF US HAVE RUN OUT OF AIR!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! FUCKING BLESS YOU TONY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! 

[thechekhov]

Alright this is really random,but I need a unbiased opinion:Am I anorexic if I don't eat not because i want to be thin,but because I don't think I should spend money with food since I can work without it and instead should save it for getting out my abusive mom's house?Like, I've been doing this for a long time, so I dont really feel that hungry,I can work and keep functioning well,so I kinda feel bad for eating more? My record is 5 days,that was when my stomach pains were too much to keep going

Okay, I’m gonna answer this unemotionally as possible in the interest of being level-headed:

Yes, this is in fact a form of eating disorder. 

Why? Because eating disorders aren’t actually only spurred on by the desire to lose weight or look a specific way. I know that most media portrays anorexia and other disorders as something that is only done with the goal of getting skinny, but the fact of the matter is:

Sometimes (many times) disordered eating is about control. 

Here’s what I’m reading: You said that you are in a stressful environment. You live with an abusive parent, and you’re pressuring yourself to save money. You don’t have a lot of control or freedom over your situation. You need to put constraints on yourself in order to achieve a goal. 

Not eating is your way of changing the situation and feeling like you at least have SOMETHiNG you have full reigns on. You are seizing your physical need to eat by the horns because it gives you the satisfaction of having something in your life that won’t be giving you unexpected results. It’s a form of coping with stress and abuse.

And it’s still disordered eating. 

And it will still hurt you the exact same way any disordered eating would. 

You are literally causing damage to your body - even if you don’t realize it right now, because your body is doing its damned best to keep you functioning!

Five days is a LONG ASS TIME. Enough time to put you in the hospital, depending on what nutrients you’re giving yourself access to. You’re feeling okay because mentally you’re doing this willingly and because you’re young, and your body has a better ability to recover but: Doing this long term could - and I can’t stress this enough - permanently damage your body! 

If you want to save money, landing yourself in the hospital because you’re dehydrated, have low blood sugar, other health issues because of this - that won’t help you!! It could also - if you are discovered to be doing this - give your abusive mother more excuses to control you. If you seek out help and emancipation in the future, the fact that you are not taking care of yourself will make you look like you are not responsible enough to make your own decisions and could give her leverage!  

Please seek help or do this another way. You can find far better ways to cope that won’t fuck you up for the rest of your life just because you ‘feel fine’ now. 

[purplepersnicketywrites]

For the director's cut, what about Cranky-rishima? That's one of my favourite kiribaku pieces!

Aaa thank you!!

SO!!

Cranky-rishima was the first fanfic I wrote!! I’d just sort of started to read fanfic again (after a bit of a hiatus from general fandomness. i was between hyperfixations) and I think it was 2am Knows All Secrets especially that served as inspiration.

I thought to myself ‘hey I really like this genre of fic where Bakugou has nightmares & Kirishima comforts him and they experience extreme bed-sharing trope’.

And then I thought to myself ‘okay but what if it was Kirishima having nightmares?’ And it all spiralled from there! I’ll keep going after the break, I Rambled

(I still try to keep up that attitude to look for fun fic concepts - take in the popular situations, and flip who they’re happening to. It can result in stories that feel a little fresher, I guess?)

It’s kinda weird ‘cause like... my understanding of the characters has shifted since writing Cranky-rishima due to like, more content of them coming out & giving them more facets, and given all of that I think I’d write it differently if I wrote it now... But I still really like it! I enjoyed writing it and it gives me Happy Feelings if I go back to reread it ‘cause like !! I get those good I Made This serotonins.

I think the first scene I actually wrote for Cranky-rishima was the fight! I don’t know why, exactly, but I just wanted to see more Kirishima As A Human Person Who Can And Will Get Angry stuff vs the Unrelenting Sunshine thing, haha. (And I still do.) So the fic was kinda built around the lead up to the fight, and then the aftermath and results of it moving forward.

I remember dithering at first over whether to use ‘Bakugou’ or ‘Katsuki’ for the character voice, and started writing with Bakugou - but I remember changing my mind & going back through to edit them into Katsuki. I’m glad I did! It feels much more organic to have the characters refer to themselves by their given names in the 3rd person limited POV I like to write from!

Having Bakugou as the POV character was barely a choice - I wanted the true cause of Kiri’s sleeplessness to be mysterious at first, and it’s hard to keep details from the audience if the POV character is experiencing them!

I wasn’t sure that I could pull off his voice at first, but then it just sort of CLICKED, and I know exactly the point where:

Thursday, and Kirishima usually came for a tutoring session after classes. Katsuki was feeling jittery all through the lessons that morning. Fucking anticipation was doing, like, a jig on his nerves or some shit, and he really really wanted to blow something the fuck up. His palms crackled, and at one point Present Mic raised an eyebrow and cleared his throat at him from behind his stupid glasses.

The JIG! That was the MOMENT I knew I had Bakugou down the way I wanted, the dramatic little bastard. Now he’s still my absolute favourite to write.

Oh! Another thing I wanted to do with Cranky-rishima was portray the nightmares differently to how I’ve read them in most fics... Because most fics I read that include nightmares tend to do the whole ‘Character Panics Because They Don’t Recognise Reality’ thing. Which. Has its dramatic moments for sure, but it wasn’t nightmares like I knew nightmares.

I wanted to write like... Like Kirishima had Nightmare Disorder and didn’t know what to do about it! So I did!

Nightmare Disorder is something I used to suffer from as a kid. I think I sort of still have it? But these days I don’t tend to get distressed by what happens when I dream so they don’t really cause many problems or cause me to wake up.

They’re like... the level of stuff that tends to happen would be in line with a 15-rated film? Sometimes an 18. But I can handle the odd bit of dream gore/fleeing from monsters/etc now, lmao. It can even be fun sometimes, in the way that rollercoasters are fun - a lil taste of adrenaline, even if I’m asleep. And anything truly bizarre can be recalled and shared and even serve as inspiration for things! Like Cranky-rishima itself

But, when I was younger and they were scary, they weren’t really anything like the nightmares I keep seeing in fics!

If I woke up from one of my nightmares, I’d be perfectly lucid. No flailing around not knowing where I was - that’s something else entirely.

I’d know it was a nightmare that happened - and I’d also remember it incredibly clearly! Sometimes TOO clearly! That was the issue with them! They haunt you even if you’re awake and in the bright of day...

And then you can’t get back to sleep because you’re thinking about the nightmare, and because you’re thinking about the nightmare your brain queues it up for Subconscious Digestion which just means you have the nightmare again, and again, and again, until it’s there in your head and will be there FOREVER no matter what you do.

And you can defeat the dreams - if you change them by running through the way they play out and shifting it when you’re awake, if they don’t end with you jolting awake in a cold sweat with the images flashing in your head in a swirl of too-bright colours and impossible clarity - but they are replaced, and sometimes the old ones sneak back in a new skin because the core of them hasn’t really gone away.

It’s almost always that I’m being hunted by something.

And I used that as a basis for what Kirishima was going for - ‘write what you know’ works, lmao!

...Hey on that note...

I’m planning on a third part to Cranky-rishima, set after Doubt, in the future where Class A are now pro-heroes. I want it to be a class reunion or something, I think? And I plan to set a villain on them... And we’ll get to see exactly what Kirishima’s nightmares are really like.

As well as everyone else’s.

[silverandarsenic-hcs]

Ghost BC x Bipolar Disorder

disclaimer: everyone with bipolar deals with it differently, has different symptoms, different levels, and different coping mechanisms. im just speaking from experience here cause im just not dealing with it all right now!!! wooohoo!!! ive never talked about this so if you want me to add anyone let me know. 

If hearing about mania/manic states and depressive episodes could trigger you or worsen your mental health, please don’t keep reading. all triggers in the tags as usual. also im doing it as You and not I or “their s/o” for nothing but formatting reasons and laziness. questions and concerns may be as usual directed to the confessional (ask box)

Papa II: It’s kind of difficult with him. He understands the episodes, and that sometimes you can just have regular ups and downs, and that it’s not 100% all the time. He gets depression to a certain extent too. those days you don’t want to get out of bed, don’t have the energy to cry, don’t have the energy to blink so you just let your eyes burn. and when youre up, it’s self destruction, intrusive thoughts, the screaming, the energy. Everything just feels like it’s going too fast, whether you know you’re having an episode or not. II is really good at helping you navigate your episodes. He wont push you to calm down, or tell you to “just be happy” when youre up and down. He’s good at helping things feel real. Helping you come down inside enough that you can recognize yourself in the mirror. Whether you don’t believe in medication, or went off it, or it isn’t working for you, he’ll support you no matter what and never think you’re crazy or awful or manipulating him. He knows you cant control it. 

Papa III: He tries to understand, he really does, but theres so many hard stigmas about bipolar that are hard to let go. That it’s day to day, or hour to hour moods instead of episodes that can last a few days to a few weeks. He knows it’s not his fault, but seeing you talk faster than your brain can process your words, your bursts of manic energy where you just wanna run and your bad ideas, knowing whats going on in your head, it makes him feel useless knowing theres nothing he can do to help you. All he can try to do is talk you off the ledge when you’re about to do something Not Great, and make sure to keep communication open so that if you feel an episode coming on you can try and find ways to stop it together. when you’re depressed, he tries the classic stuff to make you smile: movies, warm blankets, cuddling, forehead kisses, whatever fluff ive put in these hcs before. but it doesn’t work. it cant possibly work when you can’t stop crying and don’t even want him around. and thats a hard pill to swallow - hard to really understand its not him you don’t want around, it’s just that you don’t want anyone around. His best suggestion is to talk to a therapist because he never wants to give you any bad ideas, or bad coping mechanisms, or say something that could trigger an episode, and it’s hard for him to really understand where those lines are if theyre changing all the time (and they usually are). 

Dewdrop: he’ll vibe with you. he doesn’t really understand what you’re going through in any capacity, and why its such a bad thing when you have energy, but whatever you wanna do he’ll do it with you. if you’re manic, he’ll probably try to get on your level - and hear me out, i know this is a dangerous game and AWFUL for someone to do when you’re manic, but listen. If he tries to get on your level when you’re Up, it’s easier for him to understand what you’re thinking. If you tell him something kinda crazy you wanna do when he’s coolin, of course it’s gonna sound crazy and a bad idea and he’ll try and stop you - but that doesn’t get the Crazy out. if he’s up, he can better judge what’s a fun little reckless thing to do vs what’s actually dangerous and what to keep you away from. And he’s good at distracting. Good at steering your constantly crashing train of thought. When you’re in a depressive state, he’ll just lay there with you. he won’t try and talk it out of you, or suggest you do something fun, or tell you how everything's gonna be okay. he doesnt know that for sure and he’s not going to lie to you. but he’s figured out the more still and quiet he is when you’re down like that, the less likely you are to try and kick him out or push him away. The more he rides those waves with you the more he can understand what you’re going through, and learn about what your lines and triggers are. 

Swiss: okay i havent talked about this that much on this account (its a big part of my book haha please read it) but Swiss is Smart. like ridiculously book smart, math smart, people smart, street smart. once hes been around you for long enough, he’s sometimes better at noticing the signs of an episode before you do. He’s really perceptive when it comes to the tone of your voice, little ticks, what you’re saying, how you’re dressing. You know he’s paying attention, but he does it in a way that doesn't make you feel like you’re being watched or monitored ever. everyone knows thats fucking annoying and feels invasive as hell. When you’re manic he’s good at helping you get back to a place of center. not calm, or back to normal, but centered. grounded. it’s hard to feel like you even Exist in the same world as other people sometimes and he gets that. definitely watches how much time you spend online, cause that can make the Not Existing feeling a lot worse. When you’re low, he’s good at talking to you. he’ll direct the conversation to and from whatever you’re upset about if anything, in a way that doesn’t feel invasive or like pestering. if you dont wanna talk about whatever's wrong (and lets be honest, sometimes its Nothing) then he’ll get you to talk about something. Anything just to keep you talking. The goal isn’t to make you laugh and smile, maybe its just to make you feel less alone in the world, but if you do laugh and smile that’s just a cherry on top. 

- Kat

disclaimer part two: there are no excuses mental illness or otherwise for treating your partner poorly and putting someone who cares about you (anyone, really) through hell just because they’ll take it or because you wont seek help isnt okay.

[vestigialtext]

Euphorroria

[TW suicide, self-harm] 

Imagine you turn around there’s suddenly a perfectly circular swirling hole open in the floor, emanating a hazy purple glow and a kind of pulsing, reverb-drenched celestial siren song, like the single sickest shoegaze riff you’ve ever heard.

You think, huh, wow, that’s a pretty weird trip-hazard, and erect some cordons to stop anyone falling in. But you become fixated on the hole, staring in unblinking for hours. It’s curious, it’s beautiful, it’s sonically enchanting, it’s perfumed with a kind of partially floral, partially cardomomic, partially metallic scent which just encroaches on the sickly-sweet – but you still want a taste.

The hole, as it happens, is a portal to insanity.

This is how I experience hypomania; standing steady-of-foot behind the barrier, gazing at wonder to the insanity, hearing its call but keeping a safe distance.

Mania would see me leap the barrier, approach too close, and invariably slip in screaming.

Psychosis, meanwhile, would see me fall in, try to either fight it or fuck it, turn it inside out and prolapse it back through into rational reality, the fabric of which world begin to collapse as internal and external landscapes collide and splinter into one and other and I approach self-oblivion.

A full psychotic break has only happened twice in my lifetime, and frankly I’m lucky to be here writing this drivel – my second episode, nearly a decade ago, almost killed me and left me with almost impossible-to-comprehend scars I’ll bear for the rest of my life, scars invisible to the observer but forever altering my perception of the world, scars I’ve made peace with but which continue to niggle every day. Without getting deep into the nightmarish details, I tried – and, thank fuck, failed – to blind myself, resulting in bilateral scarred corneas which mean that, while my vision remains entirely functional and luckily unimpaired to any significant degree, I experience constant, curious aberrations, especially in low-light where the world melts into a sea of halos.

Importantly, I’m still alive. I very nearly leapt into the Thames on the morning of 10/03/2010, and not through depressive, I-can’t-bear-to-live anguish, but due to chasing immensely powerful delusions and hallucinations to the same place that almost cost me my sight. There’s a lot I’ve written and lot I will write about my experiences of psychosis – particularly re the corrupted internal logic that catalysed much of my bizarre, life-ruining behaviour in 2003 and 2010 – but not here, not now.

Mania, the losing control of my inhibitions and tripping headfirst into hyperactive chaos, has occurred three times in my life, but only progressed through to psychosis twice. I had my first (and to date, only quickly-controlled) manic episode age 16, following a few months as an inpatient at an adolescent psychiatric in Newcastle (remember when the NHS used to offer those kind of services lol). Up until that point, I had been being treated for major depression, which was my diagnosis until the mania emerged. I don’t quite remember the specifics – I celebrated the 20th anniversary of my bipolar 1 diagnosis last month – but one day it seems the depressive fog suddenly cleared and my mind, robbed of feel-good shit for so long, lurched as far as it could in the opposite direction as some kind of bizarre compensatory push.

Perhaps the flip was inevitable, perhaps it was triggered by a chemical predisposition to mania plus guzzling down combinations of all the anti-depressant variants that could be feasibly prescribed for the preceding three months. Who can say. Whatever the case, suddenly I was bouncing around the hospital halls like Sonic the Hedgehog, talking borderline-gibberish garbage incessantly, getting back deep into abandoned A-level art projects and attempting to start roughly 1,000 extracurricular projects simultaneously. The doctors quickly took notice, brought me down with lithium and revised my diagnosis.

Hypomania, (literally “below mania”), is something I experience on average a few times a year, hitting in waves, usually with a clear trigger. It’s a glimpse at the maelstrom of insanity without actually dipping a toe. Delusional ideas can creep into my head, but I can analyse and dismiss them rationally with a firm “No.” I now have enough insight and experience of my own sensations and mood pattern recognition to usually ward off a manic episode, typically with self-seclusion and/or self-management, sometimes with medication. Zopiclone, a sedative, has proven to be something of a magic bullet at sniping down incoming mania, so I try to keep a stash handy – I popped one Saturday gone just to try and keep the train on the rails after barely sleeping for two weeks straight.

After accepting I was an alcoholic six years ago, I’ve gone entirely teetotal, and that itself has greatly improved my ability to monitor myself, to try and regulate my own mood – previously, I’d (technically binge)-drink more or less every single day, and drown out any troublesome hypomanic episode with even more booze, remaining entirely functional (if prone to starting each day with a big purging sick and then having a couple of practically clockwork spew breaks at work) until my liver and my nervous system started wildly red-flagging at the sheer relentless demands I was asking of them, the perpetual nature of my misguided self-medication, so I decided to stop dead drinking or risk further ruining my health.

Without in any way wishing to belittle or underestimate the impact of the disease (severe, bulk-of-a-year depression episodes have also nearly killed me) I feel like depression is something even people who don’t suffer from mental health problems can at least begin to comprehend, can take a stab at imagining the experience. Perhaps not the depths – the eroding, claustrophobic mental space, the glimmer of hope on the horizon disappearing into darkness, all sensory input turning to a grey mush, the head-in-a–tomb depersonalisation – but most people can relate to being “sad”, most people have experienced tragedy at some point in their lives. Hypomania, however, is a trickier prospect to explain. But I’ll try.

I can’t speak for others who experience the condition, but in my case, hypomania manifests itself across my whole physical, mental, emotional spectrum. Although other factors come into play, the biggest single trigger for me seems to be sleep deprivation. It’s no news that circadian rhythms and bipolar disorder are intrinsically interlinked, and I have very real first-hand experience. As a shiftworker (occasional nightshift worker) who lives on the opposite side of London to my office and has a four-month old daughter, my current sleep hygiene is pretty... ropey to say the least, so I’m trying to be extra vigilant. A few nights back-to-back of little sleep (I’m talking a hour or two, at the best of times my sleep is shit anyway and five hours is a good stint) I can often feel my mood changing gears.

Simply put, when I’m hypomanic, the world is a more engaging place; more detail fills the cracks, more edges pique my interest. All of my senses sharpen up – my vision becomes cleaner, brighter, more vivid, sound seemingly has additional frequency space, imperceptible before. My senses of smell and taste overwhelm me, aromas become intoxicating and normal food takes on gourmet qualities. My energy level skyrockets without any additional external input; I have much more impetus, enthusiasm about life, work, whatever. I can literally feel my mind starting to function differently – but not necessarily more efficiently – taking shortcuts, randomly accessing memories in remarkable detail without any prompt. I can think faster, but with less focus; I’m more distractible and will happily shoot off on wild tangents with complete disregard for my goal. Depending on circumstances at home or work, hypomania is a mixed bag – any lethargy is dispelled and my agency and job satisfaction is heightened, but I might, say, approach 20 tasks simultaneously when sequentially would be more rational.

Depending on social context, I expend varyingly extreme amounts of effort to varying degrees of success attempting to mask a hypomanic episode. You know how your body never really “heals”, and scurvy horrifyingly opens up old scars and shit? That’s kind of what my ever-simmering mental illness feels like when i’m consistently deprived of sleep for whatever reason, the cracks start appearing and it kinda seeps out a bit lol. I am well aware my hypomanic demeanour and delivery can alarm people, and I do try really, really, really hard to suppress things or if absolutely required, just remove myself from situations where a lasting, detrimental opinion could be formed. I am also fully aware I can become borderline intolerable to my long-suffering and remarkably patient wife, and I try to mitigate the condition’s impact on domesticity, again, only ever partially-successfully (sorry, Kate). On any given day, high, low, or creamy middle, I’d estimate around about 90% of my effort is put towards just trying to appear normal to others, trying to blend in. I imagine many other mentally ill people are broadly intolerant to open-plan hotdesking (not to mention the insatiable clock-in-and-hit-marks demands of capitalism).

I can physically feel my body “running hotter” when I’m hypomanic, like an overclocked CPU frazzling on a motherboard; headaches spark quickly if I don’t drink enough water. I’m not especially clued up on chemical synthesis of naturally-occurring hormones etc. but I kinda get the impression hypomania is little like organic, high-on-your-own-supply MDMA.

Hypomania seems to foster within me a deeper connection to and longing to revisit all of my favourite music, art, writing, films, games, people – chiefly, I go on obsessive listening binges of records I adore. As I mentioned earlier, my hearing changes when I’m hypomanic – songs sound better, richer, more punchy. One of my fondest ever memories of mental illness (sadly ruined by slipping into psychosis shortly afterwards) was walking around out at night listening to My Bloody Valentine’s Loveless on shitty earbuds via a Spotify stream and still hearing subtle elements blossoming from the mix I’d never clocked before; layers of what sounded like processed flutes fluttering under the wall of guitars, gentle tonal ebs and flows, what seemed to be entire hidden tracks I was only just tuning in to, a secret sound world unveiled.

This might well just be wild conjecture, but I like to think maybe some bands – the bands who “get it” – deliberately bury this audio information deep within the mix, only to be decoded by specific mental setups, be they drug-indicted or naturally, hormonally occurring, breadcrumb trails left in the studio production as a little nod by whoever put the music together that they understand the confusion, the dislocation and alienation of mental illness, something extra beyond the lyrics. It might well be bullshit but it brings me great comfort. I’ve put together a playlist of some favourite tunes I suspect were written about hypomanic states, knowingly or otherwise, or instead conjure up that specific vibe.

To be honest, the hardest thing I find about dealing with episodes of hypomania is that they can feel so good it’s very hard to not attempt to stoke the sensation, prolong it, succumb deeper to it. That way oblivion lies; please stand behind the yellow line at all times.

[kidmachinate]

Making Peace With a Part of Me

My therapist is a sweet lady. She tells me things I know but won’t acknowledge fully. There’s this part of me that might as well be its own separate person, that I sometimes see in the mirror instead of the person I know I can be and mostly show to others. I can take a defeatist attitude. On good days, I just joke around how my memory just doesn’t work. Except it isn’t a joke. I genuinely in games or otherwise can’t remember how I got from point A to point B more often than I’d like to admit. Having it together in life doesn’t mean I’m not without feelings. Sadness. Despair. Depression and anxiety. They suck. The “Part of Me” that I’ve learned to work with. My “Badeline” persona of sorts.

Unforeseen circumstances have taken place and my sessions may have to be put on hold. This doesn’t mean I can’t reflect on what I’ve learned. How far I’ve come. How it is very much okay to be not okay. What’s not okay are the eyes that look over us all and tell us things must be a certain way or no way at all. It’s a closed minded view of things and helps no one. It is highly insensitive as so much more than I even realized, isn’t quite as black and white as we’d like to believe. I want to address a few things and this will likely come out as crude as possible at times, for the sake of both transparency, and perhaps make some of the misunderstood out there more comfortable.

My faith in humanity is...questionable. Lots of moments I shake my head at but I try to give people the benefit of the doubt first. Respect isn’t “earned”, it should be granted from the start. Expect the good from one...until they prove otherwise...and this is where I slip fast. I’ve given very little leverage here at times with others, which is good for the ones who seek not to help themselves. Too much leverage however gets you into trouble. It led to tragic moments I’ve referenced on here before but that’s in the past. We need to be compassionate because it’s one thing to just get shit done. I’m all for that. Not always easy though. America likes to avoid mental health because it’s scary or people are ashamed. Perhaps not just America but even with people more open about all this, it is still a joke to many. We should be more focused on strengthening mental health education than blaming video games. Seeing the good in people is both a blessing and a curse and I’m trying not to buy too much into the negative side of that. In becoming more self-aware however, I’m trusting my gut more. Ignoring what is true to you is the way to slowly start losing your mind. It’s not a place I’m going back to.

I’m good at avoiding people it seems, but it isn't something I always want to do. What if I say the wrong thing? What if I look like crap? What if I get judged for what I wear? What if I say the one wrong thing that ruins a great friendship or relationship? Should I REALLY be that concerned to begin with? Probably not. This is me however. While I stay away from others, in part lately, this is for legitimate self-care purposes. Us introverts need to recharge and all that. However...while I may seem at times like I kinda hate people, I do LOVE connecting people. Community efforts. Getting people chatting about stuff that matters or that I like, even if I don’t fully understand it. I’ve had my thoughts of being a therapist of sorts but I dunno...think it might break me. I can bring help/hope to people in my current ways but not on that kind of scale. Absorbing emotions and such, better at a level where I can manage it and am not forced into it. Forced into it...hmm...

You know what really fucking sucks? Being forced to do literally anything. I can decide myself dammit. Except for when I can’t. That sucks. But I should be allowed to go through that process on my own. Not mocked when I don’t instantly give an answer. How about...if I don’t give an answer, just assume no? Silence is a response too. A powerful one at that, depending on situation. I get we are in a age of instant gratification but anything worthwhile in life requires work. Work which we all need to do to live. Work at times also however, does involve working on ourselves with or without the use of meds and/or a therapist/psychologist/psychiatrist. Depression and anxiety are one thing. Combining that with feeling mostly understood by many is another. If there’s a personality disorder involved however, things can get even more complex. Being curious about what makes people tick always has me looking for perhaps why someone acted a certain way. Now of course if they keep just being a jackass or selfish, you can introduce them to the book your foot wrote...or just tell em to fuck off. Me however...ever heard of the INFJ doorslam? People that have gotten it haven’t come back. No regrets.

You know what else sucks? Having to force yourself out of bed because you feel like a legit piece of shit. But hey...gotta work in the morning, right? The machine mentality kicks in...but then who are you if everything is just on autopilot. The machine mentality however puts me in gear to do all the stuff I’m used to. Being responsible. Adulting. I’m convinced the only reason it is “easy” (sort of) for me is because I’m used to doing much of this alone. Alone. That always sucks to realize, eh? But I’m consistently telling people they aren’t alone. I don’t want people to feel like I do at times, or other can and will do to themselves on a bad day. How can you help others if you can’t help yourself? Um...I just...do? The shit happens. Don’t ask me how tho. Depending on the day, I won’t be able to tell you.

The balance between being the light at the end of the tunnel and a defeatist attitude is a daily struggle. Depression sucks for me and it has gotten worse. Anxiety is not as big a deal but I’ve also found out what a panic attack is like multiple times this year, so there’s that. When it hits is hits. Just gotta be ready to roll with the punches. Music, gaming, and seeking mental health knowledge/help helps with that. Knowledge is power...unless it is clickbait or ACTUAL fake news. No one needs that crap. Social media...that can be crap. I took a break for a weekend. It was nice. Try it sometime. You’d be amazed at the results.

How can I put a voice out there when my own shit isn’t together? Maybe that’s the point. Maybe that is part of the vision to begin with. I’m still figuring it out. Many still are and just not admitting it. The second you think you know it all you’ve lost in life. That and I don’t want to talk to you. You and the horse your ego rode in on can go off a bridge.

One more thing on this digital pad. Love. The word gets tossed around too much to even determine what it means but it is also one of those things without question. I prefer the spiritual connections. The ones with more understanding and less explaining. When you do explain, it is understood. Judgment free zone. Funny from a INFJ, eh? It's possible dammit!

It's okay to not be okay. That's what we need to tell our bad selves without letting it consume us. Is that it? From from it...but I'm working on ways to express the good and bad in more positive manners. Until then, reach out if you need help. Always. Don't you dare go hollow.

[gvaf-radio-blog]

I was laying in bed trying to not think about the rejection when the crying fit started, normally it goes away after a bit but this welled up and I felt an emotion like onto a rage induced tornado surging through me and I pounded the floor screaming like I lost a limb to a bear trap and started to pray to God, keep in mind I am a Satanist, to either help me find a way to get the love of my life back or to give me the means to end my life.  Satan was very understanding but reminded me to call them first next time since Satan never told me I was damned for being born pansexual and they did turn me on to better fashion and literature, sorry Satan.

It had been going on like this for the better part of July and there were several things going on in my life at the time one of those was a firm belief that I had grown too old, too fat, too broken to be any use to anyone other than to make others feel better and be target practice for the Russian Cupidi who seems very intent on making others fall in love with me on the other side of the continent, little fuckers have surprisingly deep laughs I found out . There was a person I was convinced was the love of my life because they seemed to understand me, never made unreasonable demands of me ( I thought)  and to put it simply we could not be in a room alone ever. We worked well together in fact each time we would meet it ended in us kissing and tearfully saying I love you to each other  while holding each other head to head crying. Everytime I heard a slight Russian tinged laugh. We were for a short time had an almost family, an almost family is where things are just off and need adjustments. I wanted tp make us a full family badly I wanted this family to happen because these kids were at one time treated like mine own, I am a  simple and boring man except for the Cupidi and a stalker with cat ears who keeps leaving dead birds on my front stoop.  

So yes I was that fool everyone has laughed at in a heart break fueled misery that pop songs and movies lie to us and say “ AH but tis only the third act! The two distant lovers will be reunited and the love song with start after the credits”. I want to start rounding up the con artist that make a living by filling empty headed children with these notions of true love or that love conquers all and sodomize them with live lobsters.  I don’t want to violate ethically challenged people with shellfish everyday, just on those days when I have to deal with the doll eyed masses, ok so basically every day I was trying to give myself the benefit of the doubt.  The Ex had asked me if the reason I wanted to get back together was because they were a “sure thing” I told her that they were really a long shot but if I didn’t try then I couldn’t live with myself. Fast forward a few weeks and several insulting explanations later and I am now turning over all the reasons I am broken goods and that I should not rise above my station because I deserve to be alone, i’m scum, I’m why baby jesus cries and milk spoils when I walk into the room. I started taking pot shots at the local Cupidi with my compound bow but it was hard to aim with eyes full of tears and the edible kicking in finally. I don’t know how to say fuck you in Russian but I think I know the sound of the word. 

Next we find me red eyed muttering some gibberish that’s been fueled by what I would find out later to be a suspected mental illness that is only half way being treated with medication and therapy. To give you a funny and disturbing visual. After not eating or sleeping for several days  I looked like what could be described as a  cross between a fat Reinfeld and a goth George Costanza , or Meatloaf on a bad day. I give you options for your visuals, am I not merciful?

It’s now sometime between one and five A.M and I am looking up the price of the least expensive .45 handgun because I’m poor and I’ll be getting some extra money soon because I turn thirty nine in a week I do not want to be thirty nine so I start looking for american style solutions, happy fucking birthday. I chose this caliber because having some medical training and studying the wonderful world of trauma  I got to see in full detail what a self inflicted head wound looks like and what a person's life is when the bullet doesn’t take enough grey matter. I didn’t want to be alive then I sure as hell didn’t want to live as a joke character from a Garth Ennis story so I was going to get a bigger bullet .  America, fuck yeah.

so I started to make my final birthday plan and feel at peace with having my last ride of Clove’s, bourbon and a good pub hamburger then, Tchüess. BANG! Obviously I didn’t buy the gun to end my misery and embarrassment as my brain was telling me I needed, because instead my brain going into OH FUCK mode was throwing everything it had at me to save the ship. Then it hit pay dirt. I rediscovered a natural emotional energy that put my mind into a laser focus clearing the fog and lies away  just enough to stop my self destruction and restart the rebuilding I began in the winter. The emotional energy that saved me from turning my head into goo goes by the name of pure fucking spite.

I realized that my idiocy levels had reached a critical mass when the Cupidi in hazmat suits who seem to be , in Russian , bitching about extracting me to go get recharged . They came down to take me back to a containment unit that will refill my cynicism back to optimal and lethal fuck off capacity. After my IV of coffee and Monster™ grape was removed I was set loose again into the wilds of Southeast Portland to reconnect my brain with seething hatred that I somehow misplaced my hatred during the heartache attack between Southeast Division and Southeast Clinton street where I  was bludgeoned with a baseball bat by the woman who was wearing cat ears. I was on a time limit because I had to do this quickly and retract my steps before my appointment with a Psychiatric Nurse Practitioner at two P.M later that day. I managed to find my hatred , my senses and a new found desire to attack any human with those fucking anime cat ears on their head and entered the office and was treated like a human being not a Cro Magnon sociopath who might try  to kill people on the train, it was a nice change of pace honestly.

We talked about my past trauma and some of the diagnosis that where off base and some that came close to the mark but the main thing we talked about was the depression, the depression that had me looking for a gun as a treatment plan. This Nurse Practitioner pinpointed everything that I had to hide from others or train myself not to do in less than thirty minutes, Let me give you a bit of perspective. 

Most of the mental health professionals I worked with in the past used a method I call flow chart counseling, example:

Therapist sees me walk into the door, therapist will ask if I drink if yes how many drinks in a week, if no move on to the next question. Therapist: Mister Cromag do you drink?

Me: yeah, I like a good beer, or wine I take a shinning to good bourbons as well.

“Therapist now flows to follow up questions”

Therapist: How many drinks per week?

Me: Well, I like to have a drink that pairs with my dinner and some weekends I’ll have a bit more during games or socialization depending on who’s around.

“Therapist now moves down to alcoholism”

Therapist: how long have you been an alcoholic?

Me: I’m sorry what?

Therapist: You binge drink Mister Cromag, more than four drinks per week means substance abuse.

Me: No it means I like the taste of a stout. “Moves down the chart to denial”

Therapist: We need to find you an addiction specialist.

Me: You think my drinking is bad, wait until I tell you about my porn collection.

After that exchange I was referred to a physical therapist to help with carpal tunnel and after a traumatized therapist had to call security all while frantically  trying to find a flowchart for the psychotically horny they made a suggestion about me having an Oedipus complex.

So you now see what I mean, a lot of professionals never got to the heart of it and there are other stories where I’ve had the professionals all but sneer at me when my symptoms are presented. So this Nurse Practitioner was a nice change of pace and with the discussion about my issues, what I thought I might have been dealing with  (sometimes people see that I do have some form of intelligence and not just hit thing with club real hard unga bunga) we then worked out what medication I needed to treat  the thing I was dreading, being diagnosed with  Bipolar 1.

Bipolar and ADHD share many of the same characteristics and as I’ve learned if you have one the other is more than likely there it just needs to be screened for. Bipolar is also a hereditary form of mental illness which makes it a bit unique where others are mostly trauma induced but Bipolar just kinda waits for something to happen and when nothing does it creates its own fun. To add to this good time Bipolar  is classified as a “mood disorder”  your highs are hyperactive boarderlining and often going into a full true manic state of mind and body, not nearly as fun as it sounds. Then the lows are soul crushing affairs that amplify the depression and then takes the lies you brain tells you and creates a story based on people around you, your fears, past trauma and then makes you this poisoned lullaby cake that tastes like candy feels like medicine until you fall to your knees paralyzed and the fangs sink into your back and you see too late what is having you for dinner tonight.

So that’s a quick and blurry on Bipolar 2, I have Bipolar 1 which means I get all of that plus the added fun of hallucinations, and not the type Terrence Mckenna taught us about. These are things that just manifest as if they are real life like if you were in a  film and it was edited without  warning and in this new situation  you now have to improvise a reality, any  reality, this is why I take *drugs prescribed and other. The other issue is that it feels like my memories get remixed and things that happened now have a new twist, a paranoid hurtful twist.  Good example of this is when I was making a terminal wishlist and believed that there were people who truly wanted me to die because I interpreted their actions as malicious. Another example is I was walking home to the apartments  around ten or twelve years ago, I was walking home at the time with groceries and when I got through the front door there was construction going on at the apartment above me. I sleep days and at best i’ll get four hours due to shit employer, new born child, a girlfriend that was Sybil the next generation who completely refused to get treatment because she was a psych major and thought she was the heroin to overcome all odds  in a lifetime movie.  So on top of this my mental illness is not in check, no insurance and if I mention medication at work I could get fired. 

 I wish this was a part I made up  but I mentioned I was on antidepressants at one time and they removed me from two positions back to entry level until I got clean off celexa, Not allowed to do the fun drugs and then punished for using the boring ones no idea why I stayed there for eight and a half years. 

Back to the construction, I get home try to put my groceries away and one of the workers says he needs to do something in the bedroom I tell him to get bent , he calls me a fat fuck and I proceed to beat him bloody! Except it never happened, I woke up beating my fist bloody onto the tiled floor of the kitchen where I had started to put away my groceries until I jumped into this other reality, I’m just happy the kid wasn’t home because it might have scared her and made her cry and knowing I made her cry hurts the worst, I would have attempted that second suicide earlier. This freaked me out I’ve never had an hallucination like this I was scared, when I told then girlfriend hoping to get support or at least pointed in the direction on where to look she labeled me a schitzophrentic started talking to me as if I was going to flip out  and that I was even more dangerous.  I let that turn around in my head for years thinking that this was the linchpin to me being broken and with the way she talked to me I believed I didn’t deserve help. This was one of the main reasons I had to kill myself after she took my daughter away.

Like a few million other miserable , confused people out there I didn’t know a blessed thing about what was happening, I remembered the mental abuse and emotional abuse from the church, and some had argued physical and neglectful abuse I recieved at the hands of my family or my mother’s husbands who told my mother to no provide for me but instead buy him a new toy car. My step sister who somehow hates the knot headed reprobate more than I do stole his precious camaro and rear ended a Semi. After learning she was ok I fell on the floor laughing because all I could think about was this NASCAR addicted stunted man child calling his mommy to whine about a broken toy, to add to this mental image he was wearing a blue jean diaper and clutching a plush Richard Petty teddy bear.

There’s more but I don’t feel the need to talk about school bus drivers and me losing memory of one full  year of my life, bullying at the hands of adults and children alike. I feel like that would be redundant and unfortunately all too common a story I’ve heard from so many people in my life, friends, lovers , coworkers the fucking homeless people who talk with me after I give them beer money. Leaving some of the genetic issues aside you bastards need to understand how wide spread some of these traumas are for fuck sake my motley of misfits are all walking trauma case studies and instead of getting help YOU people ridiculed them, or gave them the greatest useless sentence in the english language which is :

 “Just get over it.”

Do you know what I would like to see? I want to see all of us survivors roaming the streets like that piss poor movie they claimed was a horror movie the Purge and with a list not unlike the list owned by the man that comes around Johnny Cash sang about during his song of the rapture, and I see men, women, and nonbinary people going to the address of those passive aggressive twits and beating them within an inch of their life, then carving into their chest (backwards) “get over it” then we move on to the homes of the rapists and tell them “you asked for this” before destroying their cocks with battery acid. The screams in the night would be glorious with the bats acting like percussion and the screams keyboard swells it would be like Front 242 unplugged. Maybe then the sniveling pretentious nra members out there will learn a bit. At best, it would be fair warning not to be passive aggressive asshole and learn a bit of compassion and mindfulness or to just get their heads out of their ass about battles they know nothing about if they want to avoid severe head trauma that one can not just simply get over. 

Living with mental illness is not easy at any level whether a small bit of depression after a breakup or full blown PTSD after a brutal rape that leaves one unable to leave their house. Whomever has these afflictions are the ones suffering and your feelings of inconvenience or fear  of those sufferers need to be thrown into the Willamette river, I would say you need to follow suit  but there’s enough garbage in this river you can fuck off into a trash compactor.

Living is the hardest thing I do but I keep finding ways to stop the thoughts from taking over and I will and have done whatever it took to not die and sometimes the only way I was able to beat the mental illness was being bat shit insane. Some people think I’m a drug addict, others just think I need to talk to my old invisible friend, a few well meaning souls have suggested psychedelics and these people are pure and I will castrate any who try and stop them from their holy work from the almighty Bob. what I do need is to find that bitch with the **baseball bat and introduce them to a proper bonfire that I’m going to roast one of those little commie Cupidi on, oh yes I want my revenge for St Louis. 

*the drugs in question are cannabis for the most part, when I’m spinning hard it helps tune me down and when the depression hits it shuts up the thoughts that plague me. Not a cure all nor is it a replacement for proper medication and therapy. I like to think of it a supplemental medicine that has the added effect of making Tool sound even more epic and letting me sleep peacefully. 

** all wildy violent, funny and or cartoonish descriptions written about are there to be funny and entertaining no Cupidi do not exist and the Cat ear person does but the assault was less bloody and didn’t involve a bat  but it was far more traumatizing.

[sparklyjojos]

CARNIVAL EVE recap

Or: way too many characters to remember, Ryusui sending people weird stories YET AGAIN, an ominous prophecy, and horses and deers and cats, oh my!

[This is a sequel to Cosmic and Joker, please check these out first if you haven’t]

[tw: mentioned suicide]

---

This book is more of an introduction to Carnival than its own thing (although Seriyoin claims in the author’s note that it’s a separate whole, so YMMV). It’s set in August 1996 – 2,5 years after the Locked Room Lord case – and so we have to catch up on what the characters have been up to.

Because of the sheer amount of old and new characters, I’m doing what Seiryoin does and bolding names that you Really Should Remember For Later.

THE ‘CATCHING UP WITH CHARACTERS’ PART:

Hikimiya Yuuya, the statistics expert of JDC, is going through a rough patch. He’s so concerned with the vague Internet rumour about the worldwide “Crime Olympics” coming soon that his work performance suffered and landed him back in the Second Group of JDC. Cue imposter syndrome. Hikimiya is also afraid that were the worldwide crime event to really occur, his sweetheart Ryuuguu Otohime (the older sister of Ryuuguu Jounosuke) would have trouble surviving because of her disability. Right now Hikimiya’s leaving for France, where he will assist / learn under one of the seven S-rank detectives in the world, nicknamed Deus Ex Machina.

Yaiba Somahito, the leader of JDC's First Group, recently had to be hospitalized after he’d collapsed from stress. He’s worried that the stress brought on by the Crime Olympics -- will they occur -- could finally trigger his (still unclarified) hereditary psychiatric disorder. In the hospital he befriends a young boy, Amano, who with his prematurely white hair looks a lot like Yaiba’s brother Amato (who committed suicide years ago because of the aforementioned hereditary disorder). Amano was given only a few months to live.

While Yaiba’s hospitalized, Kirika Mai takes over his duty as the First Group’s leader. While people seem to like her in this position, she considers herself a temporary replacement. Since the last time we saw her she cut her hair short and has started dating a forensics expert Hazama [who showed up briefly in Joker]. She’s still confused about whether or not she has/had A Thing for Juku or was it just deep respect or what, and she certainly feels a pang of jealousy whenever she thinks about him surrounded by other people but not her.

Kirika mentions getting an author manuscript of a book describing the Locked Room Lord case. Every detective concerned gets a copy so they can approve the scenes they show up in. The book is written by a mysterious writer using the nickname Seiryoin Ryusui and is called Cosmic. It seems Seiryoin is already working on another book, Joker, this one about the Geneijo case. [WE META NOW, WE META HARD]

Tsukumo Nemu is there, but doesn’t really do anything in this book. Aside from instilling JDC representative Ajiro Souji’s “stupid parental feelings” and indirectly making him remember his dead son Souya, that is. [Have I ever mentioned that my favourite JDC AU is the one in which Ajiro inexplicably becomes the dad to Juku, Nemu, and the Ryuuguu siblings in addition to his own son? Just the 30-something Ajiro and a bunch of quirky genius kids he’s dadding over. Perfect.]

Amagi Hyouma is distraught after his work partner Yakuma Suzume was arrested for drug possession. Yakuma was a JDC detective whose reasoning ability was at its height when he subjected himself to risky activities like bungee jumping. Adrenaline and all. Nicknamed “Akuma”, or demon.

Later Hyouma is entrusted by Ajiro to take a bottle of alcohol to Yaiba as a get-well-soon gift, but predictably drinks it all right there in JDC’s lobby – his own meta-reasoning method relies on him getting drunk and, well, it didn't have the best influence on his life. Hyouma thinks a lot about his mysterious past: he can’t remember his parents, and all that his early childhood left him are vague memories of a terrifying fire and burn marks he usually hides under his bandana. He still dearly remembers his dead girlfriend Takabe Yuu (the one who died in Cosmic) and always wears a locket with her picture.

Later in the hospital Hyouma spends some time playing UNO with a fairly new detective Suzukaze Unomaru. Unomaru talks and dresses like a samurai completely with a wooden sword strapped to his back. His reasoning power increases when he’s playing card games (any and all, though UNO is his favorite), and in fact he got hospitalized because he’d somehow fucked up his hands due to too intense card game playing.

Later Hyouma is given a lift back to JDC by Kasumi Fuyuka (whose D-name, that is her “detective nickname”, is Fuyuu Kasumi), who’s similar in looks to Kirika and reasons better while she’s sleeping. (I'm starting to think they just pick someone's characteristic at random and call it a reasoning method.). The two were an item once, but nowadays Kasumi is more into someone else.

That someone else is Christmas Mizuno, a girly young man wearing all red except for the white shirt. People often call him Joya (“New Year’s Eve”) as he was born on 31st December. He’s the younger brother of the late meta-detective Pyramid Mizuno (who was ironically the one born on Christmas), and has a baby sister simply called JDC (born on the anniversary of the establishment of JDC). He was once Ajiro Souya’s friend in school, and sort of became a detective inspired by him. As of recently, Christmas became Ryuuguu Jounosuke’s assistant. His reasoning, sometimes called “anti-reasoning”, is kinda… searching for the truth via randomly wandering around or rambling to eventually stumble into the right thing. It doesn’t help that he has zero sense of direction. He’s trying his best, but can clearly see the barrier of talent between him and the big name detectives. Really wants a stuffed Catbus.

Ryuuguu Jounosuke hasn't changed much – still wears the same black clothes everyday, loves word plays, has autistic traits out the wazoo, is as aroace as they come (yay!), and is affectionately known as “JDC’s greatest weirdo”, or sometimes “the black-wearing Joker” because of his cheerful disposition. He’s horrible around machines and WILL break your laptop or phone if you let him as much as touch it, which is in a way really impressive. Ryuuguu lately feels exasperated because of one of JDC’s new detectives…

... Somedaring Amagoi [or Same Darling Amagoi? It's romanized differently on the cover and in the annex]. She's pretty much the teenage female version of Ryuuguu (that is, a walking pun hell), except she dresses like a shrine maiden. Her D-name is Amagoi Samidaare? (yes, with the question mark), but most people call her Ittai-chan because of how often she says “ittai” (“what the hell”). She considers Ryuuguu her teacher and constantly challenges him to riddle battles. Even Ryuuguu is a little done with it at this point.

On the day most of Carnival Eve is happening, Ryuuguu is giving a welcome to a new detective who has recently passed the hellishly difficult JDC entry exam. It’s Hoshino Tae, the very same person that survived the Geneijo case. Tae accepts a D-name that Ryuuguu created for her: Fuumonji Jouka, which honors the memory of Tae’s brother known under his pen name of Fuumonji Kousei.

Another future detective is Yuiga Dokuson. For now we’re just told that he was Hyouma’s school friend. Emphasis on “was”. Dokuson is a self-proclaimed narcissist (his reasoning method apparently relying on that) who claims to be thousands of years old, and rumour has it that he once drove a man to suicide simply by talking to him. If Tsukumo Juku’s beauty could be described as godly, Dokuson’s unusual good looks (fortunately not to the point of making others faint) feel like the demonic equivalent. Hyouma doesn’t have the highest opinion of the guy, and is pretty pissed off that Ajiro let the dude come anywhere near JDC.

As for other JDC detectives we haven’t met yet, there are two we need to mention:

Ushiwaka Gigolo (that’s her D-name, not real name) usually dresses in traditionally male clothing, and while she may seem brash and bold at first sight, she’s actually very amiable. Her reasoning abilities rise whenever she falls head over heels for someone, but as soon as the case at hand is solved the feelings for the partner fizzle out completely, which understandably leads to Problems. While she feels attraction to any gender, it seems she likes other ladies the most. It’s mentioned that a lot of female JDC employees certainly like her a lot. Think of that what you will. [...I don’t think I have to point out that having your bi/pan character be the one who’s defined by changing partners like socks is uhhhh not good.]

Kakuusan Kanke (this D-name being a pun on a relationship triangle) is a talkative woman with round glasses and okappa hair which gave her a nickname “Kappa”. Her reasoning ability soars whenever she’s jealous about something (a relationship, talent, fame…). Before JDC she worked as a DJ. She’s also an amateur hypnotist, weirdly enough. Kakuusan and Ushiwaka worked in a trio with another female detective, who unfortunately was murdered fairly recently.

While we’re looking at JDC, we should mention that Ajiro Souji’s usual secretary Hanto Maimu had to recently take maternity leave. (She already named her yet unborn kid Hanto Kuraimu. 'Crime Hunt'. That’s metal.) The new secretary is Mito Muramasa, a young office worker guy with low levels of self-confidence who’s fairly anxious all the time, described as evoking maternal instincts in everyone, and who basically isn’t sure how to adult properly and feels completely out of place. Relatable.

For reasons that will only come into play much, much later, we also have to mention one of JDC’s security guards called Nakamoto Hiroya, whose secret dream is to become a writer.

--

As for the God of Detectives Tsukumo Juku, he’s taken a paid leave -- which he never does, mind you -- to return to Shunkashuutou, the Tsukumo family’s residence in Shimane Prefecture. He invited two people along.

One is Tousen Yomiko, a private detective specializing in criminal psychology who was Juku's childhood friend and at one point in life his fiancée. Yomiko previously showed up in Cosmic helping others solve the Jackie the Ripper case. Just like Juku, Yomiko has the atmosphere of being an extremely loving and understanding person to the point that it kinda wraps around to feeling uncanny. Yomiko’s father Yomi was good friends with Juku’s father, and in fact was the one to built Shunkashuutou.

The other invited person is Inugami Yasha, now around 17-year-old private detective who helped JDC during Cosmic. Walking to Shunkashuutou, Yasha accidentally remembers that time he saw Juku’s eyes and faints (hfjsjkhf), and while he’s unconscious the black cat he brought along goes missing. The cat had been entrusted to Yasha by a randomly met dying man who introduced himself as Kanai Hidetaka, or Employee D who once worked in Geneijo. [Kanai Hidetaka is our world's Seiryoin's real name, btw.] The cat is called Kanaihidetaka ( Yasha says you’re not supposed to split that name, so I write it together). Apparently it’s connected to something called “the last case of humanity” that also has to do with a mysterious "Shinrui” (Yasha has no clue what it is, but thinks it should be written with the kanji meaning “God's tear”).

In a conversation with Yasha, Yomiko reveals that there’s something that even Juku still can’t solve -- he still can’t figure out the tricks to his father Saimon Ryuusui's “Miraculous Illusions”. The illusions in question were only ever shown once, and only to little Juku, before his father died during the Saimon Family Murder Case. The Miraculous Illusions were still unfinished at the time, but Juku thinks that if they were perfected, they could lead to some sort of an “ultimate trick”.

As for the missing cat, there’s a Shimane legend about people and animals being spirited away, so who knows if that didn’t happen to Kanaihidetaka too? But thankfully the cat is soon found by Juku, and everything's fine. (For now.)

THE ACTUAL PLOT (what little there is of it for now):

Hoshino Tae / Fuumonji Jouka brings to JDC a letter that Dakushoin Ryusui sent her a long time ago. It was sent on 26th October 1993… that is, during the Geneijo case. It contains another envelope and a curt note from Dakushoin asking the recipient not to open it until the date given (yesterday as of now). The envelope contains a short story consisting of 7 acts and called:

ANOTHER JOKER ---The Revised Detective Myth (But The Culprit Is The Same?)

[Note: Joker’s full title is Joker: Detective Myth As The Old Testament]

This short somewhat absurd story takes place in a building without an entrance or exit called Gensoukan (Phantom House? Phantom Mansion? Either way, it’s a clear riff off of Geneijo). Aside from the lead character – Ryuuguu Jounosuke – the story features only people who are already dead: Kirigirisu Tarou (apparently the owner of Gensoukan) with his wife Kano; Ajiro Souya; everyone else who died in Geneijo; as well as Kosugi the butler and his son, who both died during the Locked Room Lord case. (Incidentally, the kid’s name is now furigana’d as Katsutoshi and not Shouri like it was in Cosmic and Joker. This is never explained, but I’ll go with my Meta Instinct and assume this is an intentional change. None of the detectives reading the short story seems to notice the change. Oh, and the kid is reading a certain book called Joker. Meta intensifies.)

Another Joker’s Ryuuguu is quite confused about how he got into Gensoukan and why all the dead people he saw die in Geneijo are alive and acting like nothing happened, but he feels like he may as well go with the flow and solve the case. The victim is one Employee O, or Ousetsu Kan. The locked room he was in burned down. Witnesses heard the victim yell something like “dou, dou”. While everyone was running around and trying to break the door open, the victim must have tried to extinguish the fire by turning on water, but he was too late to save himself from burning down to a pile of bone fragments. (Ryuuguu realizes that a normal fire wouldn't be hot enough to leave only bones, but whatever, this is Gensoukan, it’s weird.) There seemed to be more bones left than just one man would have, though. The only other clue is a message carved into the floor that “the culprit is ZI”.

Murder aside, two animals held in Gensoukan's stable went missing: a man-eating horse called SIKA (“deer”) and a deer called UMA (“horse”).

Ryuuguu was apparently chosen to be in Gensoukan as Dakushoin's guest, whatever this means. Dakushoin helps the investigation by making a map of Gensoukan including everyone present's name and room location. This helps Ryuuguu eventually figure out the case and who 'the Joker' (the culprit) is. He gathers everyone in the recreation room to explain it, but the story ends just as he points and yells “You are the Joker!”

Attached to the story is a short bonanzagram (a riddle in which you substitute free spaces with letters) that prompts the reader of Another Joker to fill it in with the answers to the case.

–

The real Ryuuguu Jounosuke and Tae / Jouka solve the story's case incredibly quickly, but still have to help Christmas through his own stumbly reasoning.

The title having that But The Culprit Is The Same? part would seemingly point to whoever committed the Geneijo murders as the culprit of the story.

However, Christmas says that the person he suspects is not the culprit of Geneijo, but the Kosugi boy. [A statement which should give everyone who read Joker a long pause, but then again, Juku and Yaiba probably didn’t reveal the truth to anyone.] Ryuuguu and Jouka think the boy is just a red herring here.

Christmas’s next guess is the story’s rendition of Nijikawa Ryou. The map that Another Joker’s Dakushoin made has everyone’s pen name and real name. Everyone without a pen name has a note that “(Real Name Is The Same)”. However, Nijikawa Ryou has a slightly different note that “(Real Name = The Same)”, which can be read as him being called The Same, and since The Culprit Is The Same...

If a person was called 同じ, onaji (The Same), then the last name would be Ona and the first name would be Ji. Or maybe the last name would be Dou (same kanji, different reading) and the first name Ji. The syllable “ji” can be romanized as “zi”. And that’s why the victim yelled “Dou, Dou!” (the murderer’s last name!) and the dying message said that “the culprit is ZI”.

[I feel like this is a good time to remember Juku’s final observation in Joker about Dakushoin’s manuscript having a message that mina onaji, or “Everyone’s The Same”. I sense multiple meanings here.]

Since Story Nijikawa shared alibi with Story Miyama Kaoru (they were playing hanafuda in the recreation room), this means they were partners in crime, and maybe lovers. See, there’s apparently a proverb that “the one who interferes in love will die kicked by a horse”, so the two could symbolically use a horse as a murder weapon to deal with Ousetsu Kan, who threatened their relationship in some way.

Nijikawa planned to get the horse and the victim in the same room, scare the horse with fire and make it trample the victim. Things went awry and Nijikawa had to flee the now burning room. The victim locked the door in fear of Nijikawa returning and tried to extinguish the fire, but the unhinged horse ate him. The bones found at the scene belonged to the horse.

As for what happened to the deer, well, there’s this proverb that “the person who chases a deer does not see the mountain”. Yama, mountain, is also a term for a card deck. Like the hanafuda card deck Nijikawa and Miyama used. Hanafuda, which has a deer card in it. The deer called UMA was a card all along, and Nijikawa hid it inside a deck of cards in the recreation room.

[A somewhat absurd story, as I said.]

--

The filled-in bonanzagram looks something like this:

“KAN died. HANnin [culprit] ZI. UMA was brought into GORAKUshitsu [the recreation room]. DEKOI [the person used as a 'decoy' killer] was the KOSUGI boy.”

Ryuuguu and Jouka notice that there's a hidden message obtainable by making an anagram of all the filled-in letters. Poor Christmas Mizuno feels inadequate as he's not able to guess it as easily as these two did (and the reader will share his pain of being denied the knowledge of the message before the end of the book). Concerned about the message, Ryuuguu brings the story to Ajiro, who then arranges one-on-one meetings with each of the big name detectives to ask them what they personally think of it.

While this is happening, Ryuuguu thinks about a dream he had that night in which he talked to someone. He can’t actually remember anything else, but he has a vague feeling that the dream was important. What was it about...? 

–

[This chapter is called “The real short story: Cosmic Zero”]

Ryuuguu is in some empty space in which he can only hear Dakushoin's voice. Dakushoin talks about vague and weird things, about space-time curved into a Moebius strip in which the cases are recurring again and again, and the dead are coming back to live and repeating their deaths without noticing.

Ryuuguu asks about Another Joker and the manuscript from the Locked Room Lord case. Just how much does Dakushoin know if he was able to hint at future events in them? Dakushoin answers that since Ryuuguu will forget this conversation even happened (because it shouldn’t be happening in the first place), there's no harm in telling him some things.

A plan to exterminate all humanity is under way. It started back in 1979 with the Saimon Family Murder Case, one of the Four Great Tragedies. The other three are the Geneijo case, the Locked Room Lord case, and the future Twin Disappeareance case of 1999. The Crime Olympics are not included in the Four Great Tragedies, as it's a worldwide event that doesn't concern just Japan, and it's really just a preparation for the last Tragedy.

The Twin Disappearance case will be the last one. Then, on the night of the last day of the current century – 31st December 2000 – Tsukumo Juku will be murdered, and the human race will perish soon after.

All of the culprits of those giant cases – Shiroyasha, the Artist, the Locked Room Lord, Kamikakushi of the Twin Disappearance case, as well as the Billion Killer of the Crime Olympics – are nothing more than decoys. They are all controlled by a mysterious Tsukumo Jaki (九十九邪鬼), who will be the one to kill Juku. Tsukumo Jaki is apparently someone Ryuuguu knows – why, it's one of his fellow detectives!

Ryuuguu is upset, but Dakushoin points out that since he'll forget this anyway, and all is destined, there's no reason to care a lot about it now. The two have a conversation about language and writing, and Dakushoin hints at there being a root language that all others came from, and that Ryuuguu should look into it.

Finally they bid each other goodbye. Dakushoin says that he himself can only return to 'the beginning' and tread the same path over and over again, but Ryuuguu can now continue walking forward in new time.

[End of Cosmic Zero]

--

The hidden message is finally revealed:

KAN HAN ZI UMA GORAKU DEKOI KOSUGI --->

HANZAI GORIN SUGU KOKO DE KAIMAKU

“The Crime Olympics will be starting here soon.”

–

At exactly 1 PM on 10th August 1996, the Crime Olympics really do start.

With the JDC building -- and about 300 detectives inside it -- exploding.

And that's where Carnival Eve ends.

[To be continued in Carnival]

[aceyanaheim]

Okay let’s try this one more time.

Questions from this thingy that I saw a friendo do last year.

Introduction: Acey. That’s it that’s the introduction.

Diagnosis: I’m working on getting a Diagnosis but Autism and some form of attachment disorder.

As of 2019:

Neurocognitive and Cognitive Disorder due to Seizures

Major Depressive Disorder

General Anxiety Disorder

Social Anxiety Disorder

Personality Change Due to Seizure Disorder ( later confirmed by a second psychiatrist to be Borderline Personality Disorder)

C-PTSD symptoms ( still waiting on final diagnosis but symptons have been confirmed and disorder is very likely.) 

Autism more or less confirmed by multiple professionals  but still waiting to be able to afford testing.

Symptoms: 

Autism/ASD : Can’t read tone. Hard time with social interaction. Sensory issues. Adherence to routine. Stimming. Scripting. Childish behaviour.  Meltdowns. Hyperfixation.

Attachment Issues: I tend to attach/get attached to people really fast. At the same time I push them away or tell myself I don’t matter to them. I also have a hard time getting attached to people. It’s either super quick or like pulling teeth. I want to be with people all the time. Codependence I guess is the word I’m looking for.  

Social Anxiety: I’m...basically always scared when I’m talking to people? I’m scared I’ll say the wrong thing. I have my answers and messages rehearsed and proofread and sometimes vetted by someone else ( unless it’s sensitive info)  and I still feel like something comes across in a negative way. ( like This is too cheerful, That’s too morbid, does that sound dismissive? If I say This I fuck up in this way but if I say THAT I fuck up in another) It couples with my autism since that...actually makes me say awkward/wrong shit all the time. 

Has come down since starting Lexapro but still present.

Emotional Flashbacks: Feelings that were there while you were experiencing the traumatic event. Happen at random triggers. Incredibly strong. To the point that they don’t correspond to the stimuli and feel freshly felt. ( tied to C-PTSD) 

Hyper-vigilance ( tied to C-PTSD)

Anxiety attacks

Panic Attacks

Don’t act as mature as other people my age/more at home with younger people.

Hypersensitive to any perceived rejection. 

Brain fixates on bad memories and repeats them : C-PTSD

Constant fear of it happening again: C-PTSD

Black or White thinking: I’ll think someone’s sick of me or can’t stand me at stuff like being left on read while also deciding I love them and they’re the best person ever when they do something nice to me. Intense but have some modicum of self awareness. ( i know on some level people dont dislike or hate me, i still spiral though)

“Duckling Syndrome” ( is what i call it) : I’ll see someone be nice to me and all I can think of is how much I want them to adopt me, to take me home, to make me part of their family. It’s too strong to be anything but disordered. It hurts. ( possibly part of bpd) 

Has in the past put self in bad situations to not be alone ( connected to bpd/attachment disorder) 

Other Stuff I either need to mention to my shrink and/or hasn’t been tied down to any of my dx disorders:

I want things to be Just So. Like I want a certain kinda paper for certain kinds of mediums in art. I want my food in a certain order. I eat it in A Certain Order I get really uncomfortable otherwise.

I think I’ve depersonalized or dissociated at least five times..but..only when things get REALLY bad...like when I spiral. I still get those two confused even after reading the definitions but it’s like….I don’t feel anything? But I’m weirdly aware that I’m supposed to? Like I flipped a switch. Also mixed with this weird its not real feeling. I hasn’t happened in roughly a year tho so I dunno if it counts? Its been happening again this year. Still unsure if disordered or stress reaction.

I tend to struggle with depressive episodes from time to time. Like I’ll just lay on the bed and not wanna do anything. I have games to play, I have hobbies I could indulge in but I just..don’t want to. Don’t see the point.

Have thought that I’d be better off not existing. ( AKA suicidal ideation) Currently under control.

I’ve developed these like...weird paranoia spells? Like this one time a cop yelled at me ( to mess with me) and I was suddenly terrified of him following me and hurting me and my dad ( which yes can be attributed to the amount of police brutality you hear about, especially to people who don’t speak english fluently but like I saw it in my mind’s eye and it would not stop and the dude left and I was still seeing in my head him like following me home and hurting us) or like just recently some man asked about my dog and how much she was worth and this weird ass alarm went off in my head to get the hell away from him and what if he follows me home? What if he takes my dog? What if he follows me home AND takes my dog? They’re pretty sporadic ( though not as much as I want them to be)  but they’re also really intense. Have stopped since I started Lexapro.

Physical Self Harm in the past to ground, to punish myself, in times of high emotion. All of the above. ( has stopped as of last year. Even intrusive thoughts about it are at a minimum.)

Obsession with being “good”: If I ever do something I think is a mistake I all but turn on myself. I beat myself up. I think of myself as a bad person ( there’s only Good and Bad for me..but only in regards to myself) I have to be nice. I have to be kind. I have to be good in a way that’s disordered. ( this compounds with my social anxiety and bpd to bind me into being a “good person” ( someone who never gets mad never talks back never does anything but niceness irregardless of the fact that..it’s impossible) I tend to think if I’m “bad” that people need to punish me, yell at me, or hurt me. That I need to Atone) ( could be part of CPTSD due to past abuse. Answer pending) 

Intrusive thoughts: mostly about self harm but also about “learning my place” and...calling myself things I’d rather not say. I’ve so far at least managed to recognize they’re intrusive ( might be related to any of the disorders listed above but also with past abuse but unsure at the moment. Shrink thinks its tied to bpd. Could be tied to past abuse I haven’t discussed in therapy yet.)

Disordered Eating of sorts: due to my mother being paranoid about unhealthy food I’ve gone days where I can’t bring myself to eat something because I’m scared it’ll hurt me. There’s times where I’ve needed my friend to tell me to eat. There’s times where I feel like if I eat I have to exercise it off. It’s about control, it’s about fear, it’s….about everything but weight. Hella strong last year. More or less brought under control as of this year. But remain as intrusive thoughts and pop up as intrusive thoughts from time to time.

React badly to being alone, especially at home and not getting social interaction. Depression kicks up, sometimes depersonalization ( might have ties to childhood epilepsy -having to be on lock-down  and kept indoors a lot due to my own risk of being hurt via seizure- but combines with bpd/attachment disorders) 

Have Shown Signs/Moments of Age Regression ( more often than not with the emotional flashbacks but not always)

Literally all the symptoms act up at night/around bedtime. Mostly anxiety but some others that have now been associated with bpd. Causes sleeping problems ( I hesitate to call it insomnia because I do sleep but it can get as bad as 3 hours a night until i just conk out at the end of the week -or 2 weeks- out of sheer exhaustion. Has been present since I was a teenager.) 

In The Past: Recklessness and disregard for personal safety and care.

Sometimes get this  physical feeling like my brain is overloaded. Often with hypervigilance or spirals where my mind races.

Stigma:

“I’m autistic” “I’m so sorry”

“I’m autistic” “And you’re sure you wanna go for that major?”

“I’m autistic” “But not that kind of autistic right?”

“I mean if you need accommodations to take a test then are you really cut out to have that kinda job?”

I consider myself a very patient person.

“She doesn’t know any better. You know she’s special” ( I was standing right there)

“I guess you don’t love anyone huh?” ( I was uh..I was nine years old)

“You’re codependent as fuck” ( that one my abuser said to me...after...making me codependent on her..yeah) 

“You talk like a robot. It’s like you don’t feel anything.” ( eeemotianl detachment due to CPTSD in my teenage years) 

“You’re choosing not to grow up” ( when expressing fears of develomental problems/disordered behaviour that could cause lack of maturity. I was asking for help) 

“You’re a lot”

“People with your disorder tend to be a problem for other people”

“You need therapy” “I am in therapy” “Then why are you still acting like this.”

“You’re just making excuses.”

“It’s like you like to cause trouble.” ( circa 2013)

“You just wanna hurt people that’s why you’re doing this.” ( circa...most of the 2000s) 

Multiple people in my family constantly make it a point ( or have in the past like..for most of my life) to tell me no one’s wanna live with someone like me ( I’m forgetful and before I figured out some ways to help it and the depression was bad uber messy)

Multiple people in my family try to discourage me from trying things because “you know you have that...thing”

And I mean..the usual constant bombardment of Autism being something you have to Fix. Of it causing people you love pain, and them never being happy because of it, of it being a defect.

People around me use autistic as an insult.

General comments about how horrible living with my mentally ill family must be ( ignoring that I’m mentally ill as well) and how my parents probably wish we weren’t disordered ( ignoring that they are also disordered) and how basically there’s no way for us to be happy.

I think at one point someone actually said to me something along the lines of “I bet your parents wish you and your siblings were born differently”

“I’m so proud you can do this incredibly easy thing that I think is all you can really do and I’m gonna talk to you in the most condescending tone about it like who’s a good lil autistic person look at you, talkin and solving basic problems and everything.” ( obvs paraphrased but thats...usually the gist) 

Define Your Disorders

Autism: a developmental disorder that affects communication and behavior.

Attachment Disorder: the condition in which individuals have difficulty forming lasting relationships ( it was the only one I can find that doesn’t talk about RAD as I don’t have the criteria for that. This one’s tricky cause I don’t have the proper diagnosis for it yet, for all I know it could be part of a bigger disorder)

BPD:a mental health disorder that impacts the way you think and feel about yourself and others, causing problems functioning in everyday life. It includes a pattern of unstable intense relationships, distorted self-image, extreme emotions and impulsiveness. Symptoms include emotional instability, feelings of worthlessness, insecurity, impulsivity, and impaired social relationships.

Major Depression Disorder: Depression is a mood disorder that causes a persistent feeling of sadness and loss of interest. Also called major depressive disorder or clinical depression, it affects how you feel, think and behave and can lead to a variety of emotional and physical problems. You may have trouble doing normal day-to-day activities, and sometimes you may feel as if life isn't worth living.

General Anxiety Disorder.:  Excessive anxiety and worry (apprehensive expectation), occurring more days than not for at least 6 months, about a number of events or activities (such as work or school performance).

Amnesic Disorder Due To Epilepsy :Inability to remember events for a period of time.

Myth about your disorders and the truth

Autistic people are dangerous

Autistic people are unfeeling

Autistic people are uncaring

Autistic people are all nonverbal

Autistic people are all mentally challenged. ( I ??)

Autistic people ar a burden on their families/a parent who abuse or even  kills their autistic child ( which happens so much it’s an acknowledged problem)  deserves sympathy.

Autistic people are brainy and mostly male.

Autism is a spectrum disorder. People exhibit different traits and while some hyperfocus on things that help them academically some hyperfocus on things that don’t or that even make their grades suffer like other interest tend to. ( my hyperfocus was fanfiction and I failed like five classes because of it) I have a friend who’s autistic and likes to party and drink and hang out with people. I have another friend who’s autistic who likes to skate and science. I’m autistic and I like neither of those things. We’re all over the place in every way even when we do share some common traits

Literally we all have people and things we care about.

Literally all of us have affectionate moments. I’m fairly physically affectionate if I’m close to/feel safe with someone.

Nonverbal and autism aren’t always correlated. Further, some autistic people go nonverbal for a bit but can speak other times.

Autism looks different in girls/afab people because we’ve been socialized differently.

Parents who kill their autistic kids are just straight up horrible people and I resent having to be told to have sympathy for them while simultaneously wishing I had “autistic” written on my forehead so I could be angry without a guilt trip and also simultaneously hoping to god I never stop passing for neurotypical because apparently the moment you show too many traits no one cares if someone hurts you or worse.

The whole “autistic people are dangerous” thing is mostly people showing videos of meltdowns which only happen under high stress and is something people use to demonize us and make us seem like burdens...and is actually why the whole “sympathy for an abusive/murderer parent of a neuroatypical” thing is fucked ten ways from Sunday. We aren’t dangerous.

I don’t...have a lot for the attachment disorder since I’m still waiting to figure out what that one’s really about and I haven’t really….met anyone else who has anything like it or shares symptoms with me.

I think off the top of my head it’s when people think it’s “cute” that you’re super clingy or go the other way and say people with attachment issues are uncaring. The first one romanticizes a behaviour that you’re trying to work on fixing/curbing and that is honestly hell. The second one is...is just as untrue as saying an autistic person is inherently uncaring ( or any mentally ill person for that matter)

I’ve also seen people say that people with any kind of attachment disorder are broken and that I feel confident enough in saying that they’re not...and I’m not.

I’ve been told people with BPD can’t be aware of their own disorder and have been denied testing due to this. 

I’ve seen people say people with BPD are a problem to others.

Anxiety: I’ve seen a lot of people who think it’s fake. And also that the only way you can have anxiety if you’re rocking back and forth gasping for breath.

There’s actually multiple ways to have anxiety attacks.

Tips for those who know/love someone with same disorders/symptoms

Well, starting off with, and keeping in mind that I’m not a proffesional or expert in...literally anything ever like ever ever....

A very dear friend of mine once said “it’s a whole lot easier to be supportive than it is not to be” Let people with disorders tell you what they need, and then respect it. Open communication and making them feel safe is key...to everything. Being informed is important but at the end of the day, different people will experience things differently and what they need is really down to them. Don’t assume that reading about their disorder means you know what they need better than them. Don’t talk about how their disorder affects you. Even if you have good intentions, you’re going to make them feel bad. If you’re a parent, don’t talk to others about your child’s disorder in front of them. And if they don’t like a therapist, listen to them as to why. Don’t assume it’s just because “they’re disordered” that’s lazy parenting.

Take triggers seriously, talk to them about what symptoms they need help with, and which they’d rather process or deal with  on their own. Just..show that you have that initiative, that you’re there for them. Listen. Be patient. Establish boundaries gently but firmly. If someone with my attachment disorder is ringing you a lot and you need time to yourself, let them know. Explain. Don’t go radio silent. People with autism can be bad at reading you. Again explain, be patient, but don’t just....leave them there to guess what they did wrong. C-PTSD is traumagenic in nature so I’d add to taking triggers seriously, be ready for Tragic Backstory drop behind disclosing some triggers ( and understand how much they have to trust you to disclose that.) but also be ready for “I just don’t want this in my field of vision and I don’t feel comfortable talking about it just yet.” Don’t push for details. Don’t push period.

And also just....treat em like people you know. Disordered people are still people, let them exist outside their disorders and do the things that people in that relationship that you have with them. ( whatever relationship that is) do. 

How your disorder/s affect your relationships 

In the past -and before I was a bit more self aware- it’s made me uber clingy. I would call friends constantly, message them a lot. Think someone was my best friend or even closer than they really were because they were nice to me. It scared people off.

On the flip side I would also convince myself people didn’t like me or I was nothing to them the moment I caught myself having strong feelings. ( which as said before would happen mcquicklike)

As one can imagine this would put a lot of pressure on new friendships. Often it would sour them, sometimes it would make people dislike me. Sometimes it’d make them unconfortable. Which as my disorder also affects how I receive rejection...was..really bad.

On the flip side of the flip side I was also incredibly ride or die and it left me open to a lot of manipulation and abuse from friends. I couldn’t be mad at them if they hurt me. I couldn’t say no to anything they said. I needed them.

My anxiety also contributes to this as I would constantly go through a checklist of how many good interactions vs “bad” or awkward interactions I had with people before I let myself feel like I was safe to call people my friends. Or even say I did okay interacting.

I had a lot of nights while I was making friends in college where I just felt like I was nothing to anyone. Like I was messing up. Looking back, it was just standard new friend interactions.

The more people mean to me, the more I’d freak out-I didn’t want to lose them. So it made it hard to even enjoy the friendship milestones I did achieve.

I’m using past tense because it’s gotten a lot better as situations that were making this 10 times worse have alleviated somewhat but there’s still seeds of it and sometimes it flares up. I’m just aware enough I can sometimes if not stop it identify it as my disorder talking. I don’t keep lists anymore but sometimes the thought pops up.

Facts About Your Disorder You Wish People Knew

I wish people knew what scripting and autistic burnout was. And that adults can have autism. And that vaccines don’t cause autism so stupid ass people didn’t risk their kid getting sick because they’re scared of my neurology.

I wish the only thing when I search about

I wish people took triggers seriously.

I wish more people knew about attachment disorders period.

I wish people knew how hard it all is sometimes.

 Favorite healthy coping techniques

Plushies, pillows. Physical grounding techniques that include physical stimming. I’m very tactile when it comes to my autism and stimming so grounding techniques were Good Textures are involved help double.

For attachment disorder spirals: Watching YT animators or vloggers. Like a lot. It recently chased off my sleeping problems. 

Playing with my dog.

Walking outside.

Going to the beach.

Looking at buildings. ( I don’t..I don’t know why?? It’s like a visual stim I guess? Like buildings that stand out to me due to their shape or being different than I usually see)

Basically going outside. ( to look at buildings, to look at nature, to the dog park, out in the grass in front of my building just..Outside Good, Inside Bad) 

Sending fun stuff to friends/doing things for them.

I tend to get a good happy chemical surge from helping people/doing nice things for people so that’s something I really like using to my advantage. I’m looking at volunteer options.

Also cartoons and Disney Channel shows I watch a lot of those.

Cooking. I can’t understand this one either but cooking and baking sometimes even gives me more energy.

Current biggest struggles with your disorder/s

Being at home tanks my mental health. I don’t drive. So I’m home a lot.

Seeing families be happy hurts sometimes. And that’s my main confort narrative.

Seeing my friends with their families hurts sometimes.  All I can think of is how much I wish I was a part of that. So I have to...not spend time with my friends.

I’m afraid to live alone.

I can’t get anything done sometimes. My train of thought has been crashing to the point that I completely lose it and I miss goals and deadlines almost every month. I need to get assignments done, build a portfolio, at least keep shrink dates, its all a hurdle lately. Even before that it’s hard for me to get stuff done when I’m home on  my own ( aka when I’m supposed to be doing things) because all my brain can think is “we’re alone we’re alone we’re alone. It’s too quiet. We need to talk to someone.” According to my shrink DBT will help with this. I can’t wait.

It’s hard to see a myself having a good future sometimes. Because of how many hangups I have and how late I am in addressing them ( I’m 28) and how much there is to do.

 What not to say to a person with similar/same disorder/s

“You’re making it all up”

“You should just get over it, it happened so long ago”

“You’re bringing me down stop talking about this”

“Its all in your head”

“Every one feels that way really”

Anything dismissive.

Anything from the stigma answer.

Literally any kind of pity (granted thats more a me thing due to childhood epilepsy meaning i had to deal with a lot of that. But honestly I’ll stand by it bc I’m not sure anyone really ...likes pity. )  

Ways in which your disorder/s affect your daily life

I deal with executive dysfunction which makes it hard to get anything done. I feel like I’m starting over constantly. I feel like my age doesn’t match my brain. All of this augments my depression.  I have to take days off in the middle of the week to just do nothing or catch up to all the stuff I haven’t done. I miss deadlines or just barely make them. I’m also a budding workaholic which I used to do to avoid dwelling on all these feelings so having to take breaks isn’t….something I’m used to or really like. I at one point handled school, work, and 2 editing jobs. I used to do martial arts, I like running, I like swimming. I’m the kind of person that needs to be on the move and lately that’s hard because spoons and energy.

Also a lot of basic self care is hard to get done because of the dysfunction mentioned above.

Things that give you hope

The fact that I’m finally getting therapy.

I guess having people I can talk to about it.

My family isn’t as bad as it was back in 2014.

I guess I know that even if I feel like I’m at a dead end, I’ll figure something out. That’s what I do. I mean that’s life, you think things are never getting better or that something’s the end of the world but really time marches onwards and so do you and you figure it out. Things fall into place. I believe life has a funny way of working out. If anything because it kinda has to, it can’t stand still yknow. I have moments of clarity where I just kinda remember that ( its not my first rodeo.in regards to hard times or Things That Happen..its not even my hardest rodeo so..if I got through that..you kinda figure you can muddle through this and see what comes next yknow) I’m oddly hopeful for the first time in a long time so, it’s p cool.

Treatment types and personal choices

I spent most of my childhood, and teenage years...and early 20s dodging therapy and help due to it being controlled by my mother and having really bad experiences with it in the past.I do regret it sometimes but I comfort myself with the fact that it was what seemed like the best decision and i didn’t have the information I now have about keeping her out of things. 

After finding better insurance and getting into university I found a way to get myself a psychiatrist and am working on finding talk therapy. For the most part I tended to patch myself up a lot by finding ways to quiet the thoughts I had ( saving text messages to remind myself people dont hate me. Talking myself down. Joining social activities. That sorta home brew stuff. I’ve been soloing a lot of shit I probably shouldn’t have been until recently but hey live and learn. Also I didn’t have insurance.) As of recently I’m on an antidepresant and  hopefully going into DBT. That reminds me I have to call them.

Your support system

I’ve found some really nice friends like they’ve kinda just collectively adopted me and when your disorder stems from losing family that..that’s been incredibly helpful. All my close friends are long distance but they help me. My younger sister is also there although i try to limit how much she’s privy to as she just turned 18. My brother and I tend to spend limited time together due to him having his own stuff goin on but I’d also put him there. My parents sorta count as....one supportive unit? ( they try with the best of intentions but it uh..thats..thats really all I can say about them)

Reactions from those who learn about your disorder/s

I get told I can’t possibly have them because i “look too successful” or whatever ableist rethoric they got going. When I talk about C-PTSD symptons I get side eye for “trivializing” it as they don’t believe I can have it and think I’m exaggerating anxiety symptons. When I talk about Attachment Disorders…..I often don’t because people always say something along the lines of “people with that are often too damaged and you don’t fit the bill” which..ouch.

Mostly it goes from “you don’t look like a damaged and/or psychopath crazy person” to “oh...I guess you are one” with a bit of “okay thats fine” but still anger and impatience when I show symptoms.

I don’t talk about my disorders a lot.

 Future hopes and dreams

I’d like to get my attachment disorder under control as it’s the main life wrecking thing I have. After that or along with that I’d like to live somewhere where I get the social interaction I kinda need.

I wanna be happy with whatever profession I have and just..my life in general.

I hope DBT helps. Whatever it is It’s my first time even trying it.

I have a couple of personal creative goals but I don’t wanna jinx them by disclosing them ( I did mention I had anxiety)

Interactions with other people with the same disorders

I follow some peeps with BPD and also folks on the spectrum on tumblr. I don’t really have a lot of  analog interaction. ( again no driving + suburbia = being cooped up A Lot)  My sister and I share some disordered traits so we talk about them often and that helps a lot.

Things you want to work on/improve

The whole black and white thinking and maybe getting things done on time. I’d like to get the spirals under control too.

 Work/school experience with disorder/s

Shit’s hard.

Often I don’t get the help I need and have learned to overcompensate/regulate so I can still get things done. I pretty much need to work since i don’t believe I’d qualify for disability. I get in trouble a lot for spacing out ( dissociating) and forgetting things at work. Work friendships are also slow burn if not just nonexistent due to my autism and people..not really knowing what to make of it. I’ll probably have to quit working while I study since I can’t really split focus enough to do both lately. Further, a lot of my energy needs to go into school things staying afloat and that tends to mean I can’t do things that contribute to my mental health ( i.e spending time with friends, going out, sometimes even therapy, taking breaks) as I’ve found out that sends me way back in recovery.

Free space!

Here’s a picture of my cat. She’s a demon. What it said Free Space.

Family history of mental disorders?

Mother has Bipolar disorder and depression. Sister has bipolar disorder, anxiety, depression, and eating disorders, Brother has anxiety and shows signs of ADHD, Dad has what we suspect is ADHD and possibly some disorder traits from past trauma. Used to have anger issues.

I uh..I used to call us “The Madhouse” for most of my late teens and early 20s.

Media representation of disorder/s

Attachment disorders: characters who are stalkers and so desperate for love family and acceptance they’ll do anything, even hurt people to feel it. Also often don’t have depression and can do things like learn villain skills.

Autistic traits are often cherry picked and portrayed in an unfavorable light. I think I’ve seen some rare cases of actual representation though.

How do you feel about talking about your mental health?

I don’t...like it as much as talking about mental health in general. Most of my life is...me running away from trauma and trying to  reclaim a life outside of it. It’s what I did with my epilepsy of course that one was easier because the seizures went away. 

Talking about it feels like going back. I wanna just move on with it. But I’ve reluctantly come around to see that talking about it is a way to move on. And I mean its not like dodging it’s worked out that well for me so.

 The true face of mental illness (Selfie if you’re comfortable with it)

Aww yiiss. Selfies.

[psychotic-spectrum]

I CAN'T EVEN TALK TO MY OWN FRIENDS ANYMORE

Namaste ^^ So I have a question��is it a schizo thing to not be able to talk to your friends? Like we all be chilling, everything’s fine but after some time I just kind of forget how to have a conversation. It often happens when I “embarrass” myself by messing up words or even whole sentences, that upsets me so much my heart starts beating like crazy sometimes it’s so intense my vision starts to get blurry and i feel like I’m in slow motion. In that case it’s Level 100000 uncomfortable but like I said it happens as well when we just be chilling. Even in my own place where I feel really comfortable and everyone else also. At some point I just can’t think of anything to say and it makes me anxious ( if I’m not already anxious because I “embarrassed” myself). I’m then usually trying to force a conversation, which just leads to me asking dumb questions and realizing how dumb they are the second after they left my mouth. I also have bpd so I notice the slightest change in someone’s tone or their facial expressions so basically I just sit there, asking dumb questions and watching my friends first get irritated then bored and finally annoyed. They never laugh at me or make rude comments they’re literally so sweet and kind but idk I guess it’s the borderline that makes me realize all the details that show what they’re thinking and feeling. Like they be glancing at each other for 0.1 second after I just said some dumb shit and someone without mental illness probably wouldn’t notice. I, on the other hand, am waiting for shit like this to happen every second of every day. It’s like I have a seventh sense for stuff like that (thx bpd, I see what ya did there). After a while the whole vibe just dies and everyone starts getting uncomfortable and kinda bored. That, sadly it’s even possible, gives me even more anxiety and I’m one step from going bananas (one time I had to throw up and sometimes I even fucking dissociate in front of other people)!!!! So at this point there’s absolutely nothing I can do, I’m just a bundle of stress and anxiety, like there’s no calming down or getting over it, every attempt to do that is making it worse. My friends are now full on bored and confused and kind of having they’re own conversation, they’re just still there cuz once again they’re too kind and would never leave me sitting there feeling like shit ( little do they know I’m already on my bullshit and I wouldn’t be surprised if they just left lol) sometimes this state lasts up to 3 hours and you can probably imagine how awful that is. I’m constantly thinking about stuff to talk about and when I find something I rehearse it in my head a million times and guess what? I just end up talking shit again. Ok, so I accept the fact that I’m not able to bring up a topic or something so I’m just trying to drop a few comments here and there but nope, I suck at saying “oh” or “yeah I’ve heard about that”. It’s not in my head, like I see the way they look at me when I say something and at some point they even avoid eye contact, like I know I have bpd but ITS REAL IM NOT KIDDING. My anxiety is now on level 10000000000 ( and by that I mean I can’t even control my mimic I can literally feel it I DONT wanna know what it looks like) and my friends are obviously annoyed. Yup. That, I don’t know for a fact, but I’m always feeling like they start texting each other about how they wanna leave, cuz they happen to get a text from their mom or gotta catch the last subway home at the exact same time and the goodbye is like soooo awkward I’m just such a piece of shit I swear I sometimes even fucking apologize to them for being boring or weird or annoying like who the fuck does that omfg I’m 20 years old that’s hilarious. like it wasn’t enough i manage to make it even more uncomfortable and fucked up. When they leave I often start to cry, cut or burn myself or freak out like a little child and toss shit around and kick my Inventar it’s unreal. I think about it constantly for days sometimes weeks and the anxiety is also not leaving, in fact growing day by day because of my overthinking. I really don’t know what to do anymore, it’s making me sick and worst of all, really lonely…I’ve lost lots of friends because of this shit and the few close friends I still have (besides my 2 best friends, I can totally be myself around them, no anxiety whatsoever) will eventually get tired of me and my behavior soon too. I can’t blame them honestly. I think I wouldn’t like me If i met myself. I’m just creeped out, weird, awkward and psycho to the bone. Some of them even feel sorry for me I think. They always go like “sweetie you can always hit me up with whatever, that’s what friends are for” and they be the ones making fun of me in group chats later. Sad thing is they don’t do that because they’re assholes like that (well kind of maybe) they do it because there is basically nothing else you could do but LAUGH AT ME. The point I was trying to get to is: Is that a schizo thing ? I’ve been diagnosed a few months ago and I’m also bipolar and like i said i suffer bpd. I just wanna know if anyone with schizophrenia can relate or if I’m really fucking casually sliding into another goddamn mental illness???

This is one long ass text but I needed to get this off my chest and I have no one to talk about this. Also your blog has helped me so so so much with realizing that the things I do and feel are “normal” I guess when you’re mentally ill. I’ve found many people, who struggle with the same shit i do and it’s nice to know I’m not the only one. Thank you for creating this little comfort zone where we can share our struggles, experiences and coping mechanisms. I’d be the happiest girl if you took some time to reply to me <3 Or maybe you could post it on your blog so that other people can share their opinions, Im pretty sure there are many people out there that experience similar situations. Even if you don’t share this or answer me I’m still very very thankful that your blog made me feel like it’s okay to just rant about my feelings. Who- and wherever you are I hope you’re doing okay and feel loved today and everyday!! Stay strong !!! Peace and Love, M

Hi, first of all, thanks for trusting me with your situation… look, I’m not sure if this is a schizo thing, in schizophrenia you have disorganized speech and that can cause problems in communication, but what you’re experiencing seems more like anxiety to me, or connected to bpd. I relate because for the longest time I had anxiety communicating with people, I think it’s only decreased in the last three years and I’m lot older than you, I also have bpd and I remember when I was 20 it was a torturte to communicate with people and the anxiety was through the roof, but I link that to my bpd more than my schizoaffective disorder. You’re still very young so you can work on this through therapy, therapy helped me alot to overcome this fear of not knowing what to say. A piece of advice a therapist told me is that, when I don’t know what to say, ask questions to the other person, people love talking about themselves, and you know what, it works!

I wish you the best and I hope you can find the help you need

[skywarper]

sorry this is the first day my heads been clear all month but heres a health update

so my meds work fucking amazing and my doctor is stunned by how much my condition has improved

for context; i have not slept soundly since i was 7 (when my fibro was triggered, i wont get into details cause PTSD is a bitch) and now..I CAN SLEEP?!??!?! without waking up and not feeling rested. see with fibro the pain keeps you from deep sleep . 

according to megs before my meds i moved around constantly in my sleep, kicking, punching him in the face, having coherent conversations w him, sitting up in reaction to sounds , all that stuff. my restless leg syndrome was ridiculous i was just (KICK x5000) but since i got put on meds according to him i just fucking sleep like a brick my doctors really impressed by that

i dont need my stick just to walk up the road to the store or post office anymore,,,, i still need it for longer journeys bc since i have no pain i dont quite know when my muscles are gonna give out BUT its not a necessity... i can get up my own stairs like fuckin wow

its not ALL fun and games tho. the first few weeks were emotional hell since the med is an antidepressant and messes with hormone levels, ive had a bit of a uh, relapse with a disorder i thought id dealt with (i totally hadnt, ftr ghfdbgfd). also my dreams are kinda of constantly ridiculous and vivid (similar to when i was in crisis period years ago) . the fact my mind is CLEAR is unusual and a bit of a hurdle for me atm, and grogginess in the morning is a bitch BUT I ACTUALLY HAVE SLEEP IN MY EYES??!?! i actually SLEEP??

honestly its so worth it . no med is perfect and i braced through the worst of it and my qwuality of life has improved a lot... its amazing just not being in constant pain...... im being careful not to increase my dosage at ALL so i can stay on the lowest dose of 10mg with the most effects... i feel i have a new lease of life its unbelievable . im really glad i fought for this, it wasnt easy by any means but sometimes you gotta really stand up for yourself i guess... anyway yeah